Goodnight, Moon
by Becks Rylynn
Summary: Nobody wants to be forgotten. Least of all a scared seven year old boy with some kind of scary monster nipping at his heels. Five parts. Sequel to 'well, bless my soul.' Happy Halloween!
1. Before we forget

_AN: Well, it's October again. Which means it's time for my annual Halloween story. And this year, since I am currently obsessed with my Wyatt 'verse, I decided to write a sequel to 'well, bless my soul.' It's got it all. Suspense, supernatural, family, romance, drama, bit of angst and humor in there. So here we go._

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**Title: **_Goodnight, Moon  
_**Summary:** Sequel to _well, bless my soul. _AU: Nobody wants to be forgotten. Least of all a scared seven year old boy with some kind of scary monster nipping at his heels. Five parts. Happy Halloween!  
**Pairing:** Dean/Ruby.  
**Genre:** Suspense/Family.  
**Rating:** T for some themes and some gore.  
**Timeline:** Season six. Technically an alternate season six that takes place in the Wyatt 'verse.  
**Spoilers:** I'd say at least 6.01. This story does have appearances by the Campbells in it briefly.  
**Warnings:** Language, minor gore, violence, heavy AU.  
**Notes:** Yep. Stole another title from a children's book. So yeah, as mentioned above, this story will be five parts and I'd love to get it all finished by Halloween but I'm going to_ assume _I'll probably run out of time.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything.

* * *

**Goodnight, Moon**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

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_Part One:_

_''Before we forget''_

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* * *

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Here's the thing: Wyatt Daniels isn't stupid.

He _knows_ that Dean Winchester isn't his biological father. He knows that. He knows that he doesn't have Winchester blood in him like Ella does and he knows that some dude with piercings and tattoos named Cody somethingorother is his birth father. But he also knows that sometimes blood doesn't mean a thing and he knows that Dean is the man who has been there since he was a baby. Who taught him everything a man should know and who takes care of him and who _loves_ him like a father...like a_ dad _should.

So, no.

Dean Winchester may not be his _Father. _But he's his _Dad_ and that means _more_.

Wyatt made this fact clear when his mom and Dean sat him down and told him there was going to be a new baby in the house. ''Fine,'' he had said after a long moment of contemplating the new development in his young life. ''But if you get to be this new kid's dad then you have to be mine too.''

He remembers Dean lit up for the first time since he showed up on their doorstep lacking his brother and a big piece of his heart and soul. Mom cried. Which was a little weird, but Wyatt learned soon after that she cried_ a lot _while she was pregnant with Ella. (Something that seems to have transferred into Ella because now _she_ cries a lot, only she's a lot louder than Mom.)

Wyatt Daniels (in his head, some part of him thinks it should be _Wyatt Winchester_) isn't stupid, you see.

He may not be good at math and he may not fully understand art and cars like his mom and dad, but he's brilliant when it comes to the things that matter.

Dean Winchester is the coolest dad ever, Ruby Daniels is the greatest mom in the entire universe, Sam Winchester is still the smartest (and quite possibly the tallest) uncle in the whole wide world even though he doesn't see him as much anymore, Cas is the funniest (even though he really doesn't mean to be) angel slash uncle in all of heaven, Bobby Singer is the kindest grandfather for as far as the eye can see, Tallie's the best dog a boy could ever hope for and Ella Winchester is the little sister who means everything and more to her big brother.

Those are things you just don't _forget._

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* * *

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The Wednesday before Halloween begins normally for pretty much every member of the household. Mom wakes Wyatt up at 7:20 as usual and pulls the Mama Bear 'let me pick out your clothes because its picture day, I'm sending these pictures to everyone we know and I'd really prefer if you didn't look like a hooligan' thing.

Just like every year on picture day, Wyatt rolls his eyes and keeps his mouth shut. Picture day has always been more important to her than it is to him.

In the doorway, with a still sleepy Ella in his arms, Dad chuckles and shakes his head while Tallie runs circles around his feet.

See? Normal.

* * *

There's been a bowl of candy corn in the living room since October 1st because Mom's a Halloween fanatic and Dad has a sweet tooth. Wyatt's still trying to figure out how to sneak a piece when he's not allowed. Somehow, they always seem to catch him. Even if they're in another room, his parents still find a way to know exactly when his hand reaches for a piece of candy. So it's really no surprise that when he reaches for a piece of the brightly colored candy, he hears someone clearing their throat behind him.

''Dude,'' Dad says casually, shifting Ella onto his hip. ''What do you think your mother would say if she caught you eating candy before breakfast?''

Wyatt sighs and turns to face his father, who's doing that all knowing smirking thing. ''Its 7:30 in the morning, Wyatt,'' he recites. ''What are you doing eating candy? You're going to rot your teeth, you know.''

Dad laughs and reaches out to ruffle Wyatt's hair, eyes sparkling with mirth. ''Exactly.'' He shoots the boy a wink, tosses a piece of candy corn into his mouth and starts for the kitchen.

''Hey!'' Wyatt protests hotly. ''How come _you_ get some?''

'' 'Cause I'm a grown up.''

Wyatt sighs again, sends one last longing look towards the candy and gives up. There's only a few more days until Halloween anyway, and then he'll get all the candy in the world. Yeah, he so loves Halloween. Not like Mom loves Halloween (she said once that she likes the magic in the air on Halloween night; Dad told her she'd been watching too much _Charmed_) but it's love all the same. It's a love for sugar. When he pushes through the kitchen door, he finds he's just in time to see his parents kiss. Normally, he'd make a face.

This time, when Mom pulls away, she's the one who makes a face, pushing at Dad's chest. ''Its 7:30 in the morning, Dean. What are you doing eating candy?'' She shakes her head and turns back to the toaster, blissfully unaware of her son's smirk and her husband's dumbstruck look. ''You're going to rot your teeth, you know.''

Dad blinks, Wyatt grins. '' 'Cause you're a grown up, huh?''

''Eat your breakfast.''

Wyatt laughs lightly and reaches for the toast Mom's put in front of him. ''Wyatt,'' Mom says, taking a seat next to him and placing a cup of coffee in front of Dad. ''I need to work on your Halloween costume tonight, okay? That means you have to play model for me.''

He groans loudly. ''Why can't we just _buy _a costume?''

''Hey, you want this done or you want it done_ right_?''

''Man,'' Dad shakes his head, pausing in his attempts to untangle Ella's hand from his shirt, drink his coffee and push Tallie away from him at the same time. ''You make Halloween costumes, you volunteer us to help with the Christmas pageant, you make three hundred cookies for the bake sale and you donate some expensive crap from the gallery for the sake of your kid's school. Is there anything you _can't_ do, Supermom?''

''Those cookies were store bought,'' Wyatt deadpans. ''Mom's baking can be used as lethal weapons.''

Dad gasps dramatically, eyes widening as he points an accusing finger in Mom's direction. ''_Cheater_!''

Mom rolls her eyes and sighs in exasperation, rising to her feet. ''Wyatt, you have exactly five minutes to finish your breakfast and then we need to head out. We have to stop by the post office on the way to school.''

''What?'' Wyatt's response is muffled as he speaks around the mouthful of toast and strawberry jam. ''Dad's not taking me?''

Mom arches an eyebrow, plants a hand on her hip and Wyatt has the smarts to sinks down in his seat at the look she's giving him. ''Have I been totally replaced, kid?''

Dad laughs and Wyatt hears him mumble, ''I'm so awesome'' into his coffee mug. But then Tallie licks Ella's hand, Ella lets out an ear splitting squeal and Dad can't do the rest of his 'I'm Batman' speech.

''For your information,'' she says, running a hand over Ella's head. ''_Somebody_ has a doctor's appointment today and - ''

''Is it me?'' Dad asks. ''It's me, isn't it?''

''Dean, do you have anything to contribute to this conversation besides proof that you were dropped on your head as an infant?''

''...You look really hot this morning?''

Mom closes her eyes and sighs while Wyatt pulls a face. The last thing he wants to be thinking about is how apparently _hot_ his mother is. He gets enough of that at school from the older boys. Why do you think he doesn't want her to take him to school? He'd much rather hear whispers about how cool his dad is rather than how hot his mom is. It's disturbing. ''Your sister,'' Mom clarifies with a scowl in Dad's direction, ''has a doctor's appointment and for reasons that are still unknown to me, your father volunteered to take her.''

Dad nods in confirmation. ''They always have some kind of candy there and some people - '' he sticks his nose up in the air '' - _want_ to rot their teeth in the morning. So there.''

Mom looks like she wants to roll her eyes again, but somehow refrains, instead settling for stealing Ella and purposefully ignoring Dad's protests. Wyatt pushes his empty plate away from him and brushes a crumb off the side of his mouth. When he makes a grab for his backpack, Tallie leaps to her feet and trots over to him like she thinks he's going to give her a treat. She deflates, however, when she seems to realize that he is not going to give her his backpack to eat. Somewhere between grabbing his homework to hastily shove into his backpack and pushing Tallie's eager head away, he suddenly remembers that totally awesome idea that's been floating around in his head since Halloween decorations started popping up in store windows at the end of September. ''Hey,'' he bites his lip and looks between his parents before ducking his head nervously and concentrating on cramming his homework into his already overflowing backpack. ''Do you think...Do you think Sam would want to spend Halloween with us?''

An awful silence takes hold and when Wyatt looks up, Dad has tensed greatly, fingers gripping his mug so tightly Wyatt thinks he sees a crack starting. Mom looks torn between agreeing with her son and comforting Dad. Even Tallie's looking at him like he's lost his mind. At last, Mom smiles a thin little smile and places a hand on Dad's shoulder. His body relaxes instantly. ''I think he probably has better things to do, baby,'' she says quietly.

Wyatt blows out a breath. ''But what if he doesn't? What if he's going to be all alone?''

''Wyatt...''

He catches the warning in her voice, but before she can say another word, Dad pushes back his chair and stands up. ''I should go put Elle's car seat in the truck,'' he says. He sends them a small smile and disappears out the door with Tallie trailing after him.

Wyatt narrows his eyes and pinches his lips together. ''I don't like that truck either,'' he mumbles, crossing his arms.

He misses Sam and the Impala and back when Dad didn't look like someone kicked his puppy if there was even a mention of his brother. He loves his dad and he knows his dad loves him. But some part of Dean Winchester is always with Sam and it seems like no one's been able to find that part all year.

* * *

Mom is always late.

No matter how hard she tries, how precisely she maps things out, how early they leave...she's never on time. She is ''perpetually late'' according to Uncle Grant and it is ''part of her charm'' according to her. Ella must have gotten that from Mom too because she came into the world four days after she was supposed to.

Before Dad, Wyatt rarely made it to school on time. He was either late or he got there 30 seconds before the bell rang. His teacher was pleasantly surprised when he started showing up for school on time for a change. Don't tell his mom, but he kinda prefers it when Dad takes him to school. Not just because the other boys think she's hot (also some of the male teachers, which Dad has never particularly appreciated) but because then he'll get to school on time. Dad gets him there. Mom always loses her keys or forgets her purse or takes a route that gets them stuck in traffic.

Dad calls her a ''scatterbrain.'' But then he kisses her nose and says that's what he loves about her. (And then Mom punches him on the arm for calling her a ''scatterbrain.'' Even if it is true.)

Currently, Wyatt is sitting in the car, tapping his foot anxiously and watching his parents out the window. He watches with impatient eyes as Mom says something to Dad, touches his cheek and hands him Ella. Dad smiles back at her, kisses the side of her head and then they both turn to look in his direction. He looks away quickly, blushes and pretends he wasn't spying. In the backyard, Tallie barks frustrated little barks because she hates to be left out of things.

By the time Dad pulls out of the driveway and Mom's turning the ignition he's sure he's going to be late. To take his mind off of his impending tardiness, he thinks of Sam. Out of the corner of his eye, he steals a glance towards Mom. ''Mom?''

''Hmm?''

''How come Dad and Uncle Sam don't talk anymore?''

She sends him a sidelong glance and clears her throat, pursing her lips briefly before answering slowly and carefully, ''They talk.''

''Yeah, but it's not like it used to be.''

She is silent for a very long time and just when he thinks she won't answer, she says, ''No, it's not like it used to be.''

''Why isn't it?''

''Things have just...changed between them.''

''Sam's not...like..._mad_ at Dad, is he? Because Dad lives with us now? Sam doesn't think we took him away, does he? Is he mad at _us_?''

''No,'' Mom says quickly. ''Sam's not mad at us. He loves you. You know that.''

''Then why don't I ever get to see him anymore?''

''He's hunting, Wyatt.''

''Dad used to hunt and he still made time to see us. Except for that year before he came back. But...that was different, wasn't it? Are things different because Sam...went away for awhile?''

''...It's complicated, baby.''

He huffs. ''Grown ups always say that.''

''Well, we usually mean it.'' She offers him a slow smile that relaxes him slightly and he sinks farther into his seat. ''Listen, tell you what, how about tonight you call Sam. I'm sure he'd love an update. You can tell him how you're doing in school and how your sister's doing. If Dean says okay, you can invite him to dinner sometime. How does that sound?''

Wyatt wants to sigh and say that's not enough, but he figures it's at least a start so he nods. ''Okay.'' Turning his head, he stares out the window and watches the streets pass by. A block away from the post office, down a familiar street, he catches sight of an oddly familiar girl standing on the sidewalk. She has long dark hair, pale skin and a startlingly blank expression on her face. What strikes him the most is the fact that he thinks he might know her from...somewhere. School, maybe? She's kind of weird looking. He thinks he would remember her from school. He turns in his seat to get one last look at her but when he turns around, she's already gone.

A lone chill runs down his spine.

* * *

He's right. After the late start and the post office and the traffic, they get to school exactly one minute after the bell has rang. Mom barely has time to kiss his forehead, hand him his backpack and tell him that Dad's going to be picking him up after school before he jumps out of the car. As he's hurrying towards the building, he hears her call after him, ''don't forget to smile for your picture'' and he flashes her a bright, practice smile over his shoulder.

Rushing into the school, Wyatt instantly skids to a stop when he sees a teacher and settles for walking fast. The last thing he needs is another detention. Mom would be_ so _mad. On the way to his classroom, he passes by the office. He tries to walk by as fast as possible without breaking into a run in hopes that the adults inside won't notice him. But on the way past, he catches sight of a figure in the window.

It's the girl with the black hair.

Halting in his tracks, he pauses momentarily to look at her reflection and the breath leaves his lungs. Whirling around to face the place she should be standing, all he sees is an empty hallway.

''Wyatt Daniels.''

He grimaces at the sound of the assistant principal's voice and slowly turns around to face the man with the caterpillar mustache. ''Uh...hi there.''

''Don't you have somewhere to be?''

Wyatt sends one last curious look over his shoulder, shrugs it off and nods. ''Yes, sir.''

* * *

The rest of the day passes by uneventfully. He gets his picture taken, smiles like Mom told him to and there are no more sightings of the mystery girl. The evening is pretty normal too. Mom sews his Halloween costume while Dad plays with Ella and Tallie lounges by the fireplace. Then Mom stops to feed Ella and Dad tries to take over for her and winds up poking Wyatt numerous times.

''I made Sam a costume for a school play once,'' Dad says.

''Yeah? How'd you do?''

''It kinda fell apart. While he was wearing it. Kid was _mad_.''

And Mom makes fun of Dad because apparently Ella had to get a shot at the doctor's and he took it worse than she did. ''I shouldn't be surprised,'' Mom says casually, hiding a smirk behind a curtain of blond hair. ''When I was in labor with Ella and they gave me an epidural, you flipped out. The actual giving birth part, you were fine with, but the needle terrified you.''

''I wasn't that bad.''

''One of the nurses threatened to sedate you.''

''It was a big ass needle, Ruby,'' Dad says defensively. ''Excuse me if I didn't want them sticking that thing in my wife's _spine_. And that nurse was a bitch anyway.''

''Dean, children in the room.''

''Well, she was.''

The phone call to Sam doesn't go the way Wyatt hoped it would either. He makes an attempt to invite Sam over for Halloween while Mom and Dad aren't in the room, but all Sam says is, ''Oh, I don't know about that, Wy. I don't think your dad really wants to see me.''

So the phone call goes wrong, there's nothing on TV and Mom won't let him eat candy past 8:00 (but Dad sneaks him a piece when she's not looking) but all in all, it's a pretty normal night.

Until bedtime.

* * *

The sound of the howling wind mixes with the sound of Ella crying down the hall and Wyatt rolls over in his bed, frowning at the odd feeling of dread sitting heavily in his stomach like curdled milk. At the end of the bed, Tallie sleeps peacefully, unfazed by both the storm and the baby's cries. When Ella's cries finally die down, soothed by either Mom or Dad, Wyatt is surprised by how much he misses the sound. Left alone with the disconcerting wind screaming outside his window, he'd much rather listen to his baby sister cry all night long.

''Tallie,'' he murmurs, patting the space beside him. ''Tallie, come here.''

The dog looks a little perturbed at being awoken from her slumber, but she scoots closer to him anyway. Instantly feeling safer with her warm body next to his, he drapes an arm around the dog and closes his eyes, doing his best to ignore the wind.

He must drift off to sleep for awhile because the next thing he knows, he's being ripped from a fitful sleep by the sound of Tallie's whimpers. Groaning tiredly, he sits up and rubs his eyes, glancing over at the animal. She's scratching at the closed door, whimpering and turning in circles like she's either about to lose her mind or control of her bladder.

''Do you need to go outside?'' The boy mumbles groggily. ''Well...okay.'' Somewhat reluctantly, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stumbles towards the door. As soon as he pulls open the door, Tallie shoots out like a rocket. He watches her bound down the hallway like a bat out of hell and then follows her, yawning. Making his way down the stairs, the screams of the storm outside reaches him again and he shivers. The wind has been joined by the sound of thunder and pouring rain and if there's anything he hates more than scary wind noises, it's stupid _thunder._

Much to his surprise, Tallie is not whimpering at the back door. She's sitting in the living room, staring intently at thin air.

Frowning, Wyatt takes a step closer. ''Tallie, what're you - ''

A ripping snarl cuts loose from the dog's throat and he jumps back in surprise.

Tallie never growls.

''Hey,'' he warns once he regains his composure. ''You're not supposed to - _whoa_!'' When he looks up, his eyes go to the back door and he sees a face in the window, lit up by the sudden lightning that streaks across the sky. Her wet hair whips around in the wind and rage gleams brightly in her eyes like fire. Terror streaks through his body and a desperate cry for his father builds in his chest but when he spins around to sprint for the stairs, he stops in his tracks.

She stands in front of him, eerily silent and Tallie growls again.

''You. What are you - ''

She flickers in front of him like an old television set. Tallie snarls and edges in front of him.

''You're not human,'' he whispers.

''Wyatt.'' Her voice is a whisper, soft and fragile, but it sounds like nails on a chalkboard and it hurts his ears. ''Wyatt,'' she says again. ''Don't you want to play with me?'' She smiles an ugly smile and moves towards him. ''We can play my game. It'll be fun.''

He opens his mouth to yell for Dad because Dad will know what to do but before he can, she blinks out of existence and then a cool hand shoves him hard and he goes crashing to the ground. He lands hard on his stomach, the wind effectively knocked out of him. A pained moan slips through his lips and he tries to shake it off. When an unseen force begins to drag him away and his fingernails claw at the hardwood floor, grappling for something to hold onto, he pushes away the horror filling his lungs and does the only thing he can think of.

He screams.

Tallie's growling and snarling at the invisible, malevolent presence and Wyatt's pretty sure he's going to die so he uses all his lung power and he screams for his parents.

''MOM! DAD!''

* * *

_''MOM! DAD!''_

There are many things Dean Winchester knows. Fear is something he knows better than anyone else in the world. And he knows what sheer terror sounds like. It's a bitter sound that has never failed to make his heart race and when he hears his son's voice, choked with fear, his heart leaps into his throat.

While he bolts upright, Ruby's eyes fly open and a strangled gasp leaves her lips. For a split second, everything slows down. And then she's practically tumbling out of bed and he's racing after her with only one thing on his mind. _Wyatt_. There are about a million and one things that could inflict that type of fear. Dean's just hoping it's something normal. He's out of _that_ world. He's out and he can't have it following his family around like supernatural stalkers.

They reach the bottom of the stairs in record breaking time, Ruby's voice calls out for her son and then Dean steps off the bottom step and the world stands still.

A bright, white hot light fills the room, there's a roaring in his ears and a warm burst of stale air knocks them both backwards. An unpleasant sensation of dizziness sweeps over him like a tidal wave when the light dies down and he reaches out to steady himself against the wall. By the way Ruby grabs his arm he knows she feels it too. It passes quickly and Dean...

...Can't remember why he's downstairs.

He remembers going to bed, he remembers Ella waking him up, he remembers the relief when he finally got the infant back to sleep because it meant he could go back to sleep, he remembers crawling back into bed with Ruby and...now he's downstairs with his wife and he can't remember why. When he looks over at her and sees the small frown on her face, her eyes lock with his. The question of _what the hell are we doing down here_ goes unasked. He sends a glance towards the lazy sleeping dog on the couch, clearing his throat. ''...Did Tallie bark?''

''...I...I guess so.''

Tallie opens one eye as if to say, _don't blame this on me._

Dean scratches the back of his neck in confusion. ''I don't remember why we're down here.''

Ruby looks at him for a second and then smirks, patting his chest as she starts for the stairs. ''Must be gettin' old.''

''You forgot too,'' he mutters, shaking off whatever odd feeling he may have.

''Whatever you say, old man,'' she says as she climbs the stairs.

He frowns and trails after her. ''I'm only three years older than you!''

* * *

He checks on Ella just in case, lips curling upwards at the sight of his daughter's chest rising and falling evenly.

_Ella._

It's a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl. He wishes he could remember who came up with it. Was it Ruby? It must have been Ruby. He studies the sleeping baby for a brief moment and then decides the best course of action would be to get some sleep before the infant chooses to test both her lung capacity and her parent's patience.

When he steps out of the nursery, Ruby's at the other end of the hall, staring into the spare bedroom like it has the answers to every question in the universe. Also, she's twirling her wedding ring which tells him she's thinking about something. She jumps when he places a hand on her shoulder and smiles softly, offering him a quiet, ''I'm okay'' before he can even ask. ''Just...jumpy because of the storm.'' She touches his cheek lightly, sends one last look into the darkened room and brushes past him, disappearing into their bedroom.

Dean gazes into the spare bedroom that's always been used as a storage room/art studio and frowns into the darkness. That is what it's always been used as, right? He shuts the door to the room after lightning streaks across the room and lets out a heavy breath.

* * *

Ruby curls into his side like she always does when he climbs into bed with her and he can hear Ella's soft breathing over the baby monitor as the storm rages outside. But when Dean closes his eyes and tries to relax, he can't shake the feeling that he's forgetting something important.

**end part one**

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**AN: Ooh. Dude, they totally forgot Wyatt. What's going on here? Drama. Suspense. Halloween spirit! I love October.**


	2. Remember my name

_AN: Phew! Finally! Here's chapter two. Sorry for the long wait._

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

**Goodnight, Moon**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

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_Part Two:_

_''Remember my name''_

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The shrill scream of the alarm clock pulls Dean out of his sleep and he groans loudly in protest, burying his face in his pillow. The fact that there are not legs entangled with his and a body is not pressed into his side tells him that Ruby is already awake and yes, he _is_ going to have to wake up and face the world. Blindly, he shoots a hand out to slam the snooze button, but all his fumbling rewards him with is the sound of a smash when the alarm clock and whatever else is on the bedside table crashes to the ground.

It's a strangely satisfying sound.

However, it's a loud sound and soon, the cries of his daughter float through the air, followed by his wife's frustrated, ''Nice going, short bus!'' Oh, wonderful. Derogatory remarks at six thirty in the morning. She's on edge about something. So much for going back to sleep.

He rolls over onto his back and forces heavy eyelids open to stare at the ceiling. Without the safety of slumber, that feeling from the night before creeps down his spine. Is there something he should be doing? Something he's forgetting? A sigh escapes his lips and he closes his eyes, trying to replay the day before. Much to his shock and slight horror, there are some pretty big holes in his memory that, try as he might he just can't fill. He can't remember what he did yesterday afternoon, he can't remember certain parts of the morning and evening and he still doesn't remember why he was downstairs in the middle of the night.

Huh.

Maybe he really is getting old.

A sudden weight on his chest tears him out of his thoughts and he opens his eyes, arms automatically winding around the baby lying on top of him. Ruby's face swims into view as she peers down at him with pursed lips and her hands on her hips. ''She's changed, she's dressed, she doesn't like loud noises so this is your fault and she needs to be fed. I'm going to have a shower.''

He sits up slowly, clinging to the still whimpering baby girl and watches Ruby walk away. When she shuts the bathroom door a tad too loudly, he flinches and Ella squeals unhappily. ''Well,'' he drawls. ''Your mother does_ not _appear to be in a good mood this morning.'' He pulls her away from him and sends her a lopsided grin. ''Do you know anything about that Miss. Ella?''

She blinks at him.

''No. Of course you wouldn't.'' Chuckling under his breath, he lies back down with Ella on his chest and closes his eyes. If Ruby is going into bitch mode, he'd like to be well rested. He loves all of Ruby, he does. Even the bitchy parts. But she's tiring when she's cranky. He hears the tap tap of paws on the hardwood floors and the door creaks open as Tallie enters the room, instantly jumping up onto the bed next to him. Ella mumbles something unintelligible and attempts to roll away from him and towards the dog. He pulls her back and sighs heavily, closing his eyes again. Just as Ella finally manages to calm down and flop back against his chest, the sound of her father's heartbeat lulling her back into sleep...

_''Dad!''_

The voice pounds through his head like a drum and his eyes snap open. For a second, all he can do is stare at Ella with a raised eyebrow and then he finally finds his voice. ''That...wasn't you, was it? 'Cause I know you got your mother's brilliance, darlin', but seventh month olds rarely talk. Am I right?'' Her droopy eyes shut and she fists his shirt. He lets out a breath and his head falls back against the pillow. ''Dad's losin' his mind, Elle,'' he mumbles.

Oh, _god._

He's got some sort of weird ass Dr. House type of disease, doesn't he? Or what if it's Alzheimer's? Thirty two (almost thirty three) is _not_ old! It's _not!_

''Come on, Elle,'' he sighs, carefully dragging himself to his feet. With his space freed up, Tallie drapes herself across the bed and rolls onto her side, lazily watching his every move. ''Let's go check on your bro - '' He stops short and frowns. Wait. What? ''You don't have a brother,'' he says slowly as if this is somehow news. He stands frozen for a moment and then shakes his head. ''I told you I was losin' my mind.''

She doesn't say anything, but he's pretty sure she agrees.

* * *

Ruby has no explanation for her fried nerves other than the fact that there are certain things she can't remember and she's starting to feel like she's losing control of..._something._ And there is nothing in the world she hates more than loss of control. The last time she felt like this was when she was a prisoner in her own body, watching as some demonic bitch did things to and with her body that still occasionally gives her nightmares.

She can't explain it. Everything in her life is normal. She's got a beautiful daughter and a husband she's waited years for and yet there's something in her that wants something more. Something in her that feels like a piece of the puzzle that is her life is missing in action.

Maybe it's Sam. She's always cared for Sam. It's hard not to. No matter what he goes through, he's still a sweetheart inside and she's always kind of wanted a little brother. Besides, the Winchester brothers are kind of a packaged deal. When you take one, you take the other. That's not negotiable. That's the deal breaker. Maybe it's just that ever since Sam got back, things have been different. That last knockdown, drag out fight between Dean and Sam that ended in broken glass and black eyes certainly didn't help anything.

Whatever the reason for her edginess, she doesn't appreciate it. Not at all.

Pressing her lips together, she runs a hand through her still slightly damp hair and starts down the hall, pulling on a sweater. She pauses in front of the spare bedroom because that's just what her body seems to want to do. Another thing she can't explain.

_''Mom...''_

The voice is a whisper, barely audible and it gets her heart racing. Swallowing hard, she moves towards the room and pushes open the door to the empty room. The door creaks as she steps inside and something akin to guilt starts in her stomach as she looks around.

_''Momma...''_

The voice filters throughout the room, a little louder than last time and she whirls around, searching for the cause of the strange haunting voice. For a second, she thinks something is really wrong. But then she manages to convince herself that everything in her life is perfectly normal and her imagination is just a bit overactive. It must be because she's an ex-hunter's wife. Some part of her is always looking for supernatural where there is only natural.

She allows herself to give the room one last curious onceover and then she turns to leave.

* * *

As soon as she steps into the kitchen, she stops and eyes Dean carefully for a second because she can already tell he seems to be extra broody this morning. Brooding more so than usual is never a good sign when it comes to a Winchester. She drops a kiss to her daughter's forehead and gives her the brightest smile she can muster. ''Hey, ladybug.'' Ella looks at her briefly, but seems too interested in the baby food her father's feeding her to do anything else. Tallie sits resolutely beside the high chair, eyes darting back and forth between Dean and Ella, waiting patiently for him to give her some of the pureed peas.

Dean looks up at her and opens his mouth to speak, but she brushes past him and over to the counter. ''What?'' His voice drips with sarcasm she has no patience for and she can't help but sigh. ''Am I chopped liver?''

She frowns and turns around to face him, leaning back against the counter. ''I think I want to do something with the spare room.''

''Uh...'' He blinks and gives her an odd look, pausing in his attempts to feed Ella. ''...Okay. Random much?''

She shrugs and turns back around, focusing her gaze out the window. She freezes momentarily when she sees a little boy riding a bike and she doesn't know why. ''I don't like it that way,'' she explains half heartedly, pulling a glass down from the cupboard. ''It's too empty.''

''Hasn't it always been that way?''

''Well, I want to change it,'' she snaps, yanking open the fridge a little too forcefully. ''Do you have a problem with that?''

He's silent for a moment and when she looks over her shoulder towards him, he's studying her with his jaw clenched while Ella looks back and forth between them with wide eyes and Tallie finally gives up on her quest for people food, trotting over to her own dish of dog food. ''Are you PMSing or something?'' He asks.

''No.'' She lets out a breath and closes her eyes, rubbing her forehead. ''I'm just...I'm fine.''

''Yeah,'' he scoffs. ''You seem real fine.''

She slams a glass down on the table, scowls at him and then turns her back on him again, reaching for the bread. ''What do you want me to say, Dean?''

''Hey, don't bite my head off just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,'' he grouses.

When she whirls around momentarily to shoot him another withering glare, he's focused his attention back on Ella, smiling just a little too brightly as he feeds her another spoonful of baby food. Ruby shakes her head and goes back to what she's doing, halting when she realizes what exactly it is that she's doing. She stares down at the half made peanut butter and jelly sandwich and searches her mind for a reason why she would be doing this. First of all, neither she nor Dean particularly care for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Ella is just starting on solids so that's a no. And second of all, even if Dean did like peanut butter and jelly, he is not five years old. He doesn't need his wife making lunch for him. She's never done it before. Why would she start now?

Blinking furiously, she puts the knife down slowly and glances over at the table, pinching her lips together tightly when she sees the glass of milk she has just put on the table. Well, it's official. She has lost her damn mind. ''Dean,'' her voice is quiet and hesitant and she's not looking at him, staring out window instead. She hadn't meant to snap at him, really. Something is just...so off today.

''Yeah?'' He sighs, most likely in exasperation.

''Do you ever think about having more kids?''

When he doesn't answer for the longest time, she looks over at him and discovers his entire body has stilled, his eyes have widened dramatically and his mouth is hanging open slightly. It's almost comical. ''Oh, Jesus,'' he chokes out. ''You're pregnant again, aren't you? That's why you're so pissy. Holy crap.''

''What? _No_. No, no, no. I'm not,'' she laughs lightly, taking a seat next to Ella. ''I'm not pregnant. And I am _not _pissy. I was just wondering, that's all.''

He visibly relaxes, letting out a breath. ''Well,'' he clears his throat and shifts in his seat, keeping his eyes carefully on Ella. ''I don't know. Someday maybe. But right now I'd rather focus on getting this one to her first birthday. Why do you ask?''

She shrugs and looks down into the glass of milk. ''I don't know. I just thought...maybe it would be nice to have a little boy.''

When he's silent for just a second too long, she lifts her eyes. He's frowning thoughtfully, like he's combing his mind for something he's forgotten. ''Yeah,'' he muses finally. ''...A little boy might be nice.'' For a brief moment, as she looks into his eyes, she wonders if he's feeling the same combination of dread and confusion that she's had since she woke up. But then he looks away from her quite abruptly and runs a hand over his face. ''Here.'' He thrusts the spoon at her and rises to his feet. ''Your turn. I'm goin' to have a shower.''

Oh yeah. She's definitely not the only one feeling off. Managing a weak smile, she turns her eyes to Ella and leans forwards to wipe baby food off of her daughter's cheek. Before she can even attempt to feed Ella another spoonful of her breakfast, a wave of lightheadedness sweeps over her and she has to grip the table to keep from toppling out of her chair.

_''Mom, please help me...''_

Her eyes burn out of shock and frustration and her hand slips, knocking the glass of milk off the table. It seems to fall in slow motion and then it hits the ground and the sound of glass shattering upon impact is the loudest sound in the world.

* * *

The faraway sound of glass crashing to a hard floor breaks into his head and forces him into consciousness.

Alone and lying on a cold damp forest floor, Wyatt bolts upright with a choked gasp and nausea rolling in his stomach from his head wound. The world spins unpleasantly and presses his lips together. Wide, horrified eyes take in his surroundings as he shakily rises to unsteady feet. Groaning, he brings a hand to his forehead, hissing in pain when he touches a tender bruise. ''Mom?'' He chokes out, stumbling forwards. Fear drums in his chest painfully and he tries to swallow but his mouth is too dry. ''Mom?'' He raises his voice, growing more and more desperate with every passing second. ''Dad?''

When the only answer he gets is the eerie sound of the wind blowing through the trees, branches swaying in the breeze, he feels something hot burn behind his eyes. Furiously, he shakes his head and takes a step forwards, feet crunching on dried leaves.

Winchester men do _not_ cry. They don't.

(Someday he'll learn that is _very_ much untrue.)

Clenching his teeth together tightly, he takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. Okay. So he's in the middle of the forest, who knows how far away from home without a phone or warm clothes. So what? That's okay. He can figure this out. He can _fix_ this. He is the son of _Ruby Daniels_. He has the smarts to figure this out. He knows he does.

Lips curving downwards, he tries desperately to remember the night before. What's the last thing he remembers? _OH! _The girl! Right, yes. The freaky, inhuman girl. He's pretty sure she was a ghost. She looked like a ghost. She did this. She must have.

Wyatt licks his dry lips and looks around again, shivering in the cold October air. He really wishes he had a jacket. Well, actually, if he's wishing for stuff, he'd rather wish to go home. Yeah, home sounds nice right about now.

When he hears the leaves crunch behind him, he spins around, heart beating so fast he's afraid it will beat right out of his chest. There's no one there and he'd really like to believe it was just the wind, but he's pretty sure he knows better by now. ''Hello?'' He calls out hesitantly. ''Is anybody there?'' The unmistakable feeling of eyes on him is...well, unmistakable and when he whirls around, he isn't the least bit surprised to find Casper the Unfriendly Ghost standing in front of him. Although, is it just him or does she look a little bit less scary in the daylight? She actually kind of looks like a normal girl. She's extremely pale, sure, but the rage is gone from her eyes and she looks...almost excited.

Oh, great. If anything makes him more nervous than a ghost, it's an _excited_ ghost. That's just unnatural.

''Hi, Wyatt,'' she chirps. ''You look cold. Are you cold? I'm sorry. Let me fix that.'' In the blink of an eye, she's mere inches away from his face and her hand is on his face. Her freezing touch is enough to make him jerk away from her, but when he looks down at himself, he's fully dressed. Jacket and shoes and everything. She seems entirely unfazed by his obvious hostility, smiling brightly. ''I want you to be comfortable, Wyatt,'' she says softly, peering up at him through her eyelashes.

''Who are you?'' He demands, doing his best to sound intimidating. ''Are you a ghost? You're totally a ghost, aren't you?''

She pouts. ''Don't you remember me, Wyatt?''

''Stop saying my name like that!''

''Like what, Wyatt?''

''Like you know me! You _don't_ know me!'' Chills run down his spine and he takes a few anxious steps away from her, a terrified lump growing in his throat. He's trying real hard not to be scared because Winchester men don't get _scared _either (also untrue), but he's having a one on one with a _ghost_. That's pretty darn scary. ''Why are you doing this to me?''

''What do you mean?'' She frowns, looking genuinely confused and pushes dark hair from her dead eyes. ''I'm doing this for us, Wyatt.''

He pauses, blinking and trying to remind himself to breathe. ''Uh...what now?''

''So we can be together, of course.''

He looks at her for a minute like she's crazy and then can't help the scoff that leaves his lips. ''Are you crazy!'' He yelps, throwing his arms out. ''Dude, I'm seven! I still think girls have cooties!''

''_I_ don't have cooties,'' she says patiently.

''No, but you're dead, aren't you? That means you got a load of other nasty diseases that are so much worse than cooties!''

''I am not worse than cooties!''

''Are too!''

''Am not!''

''Are too!''

''Am not!''

He opens his mouth to argue some more and then stops, snaps his jaw shut and shakes his head. ''Whatever,'' he mutters bitterly, turning away from her. ''I'm goin' home to find my Mom and Dad.'' He fully expects her to try and forcefully stop him. Perhaps knock him out again. But when she doesn't, he starts to feel a little bit of relief sinking in and he keeps walking. Naturally, that's when his hopes are crushed.

''They won't remember you.''

He stops. His heart falls into his stomach and he can't breathe. At his sides, his hands clench into fists and when he slowly turns around, she's totally in his personal bubble again because apparently ghosts know no boundaries. Kinda like that one time right after he had met Cas for the first time and he was still learning the ropes and he popped in while Mom and Dad were in the shower. Wyatt's still not exactly sure what they were doing in the shower together, but he knows he woke up to Mom's shriek and when he went to see what was going on, Mom was dragging Cas out of the bathroom by his ear, wrapped only in a towel while Dad, also only in a towel, hurried out after her and desperately tried to calm her down. This is not nearly as amusing. ''What do you mean they won't remember me?''

She shrugs. ''They won't remember you,'' she repeats simply. ''Your parents don't even know you exist. I took you away. I took you away from those sorts of...distractions so that we could be together.''

''Y-You're crazy,'' he spits out.

''I'm not crazy. I just love you.''

''...In other words: you're crazy! You're a crazy dead girl and I don't believe you!''

Suddenly, her whole demeanor changes and a scowl darkens her face. ''Fine,'' she growls. Her hand comes into contact with his cheeks, her nails dig into his skin, bringing blood to the surface and the next thing he knows, his back is hitting a nearby tree and he's falling to the ground. Tears sting his eyes at the pain, but he bites down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, determined not to cry out. He won't give her that. ''Don't believe me,'' she says, voice like knives. ''But you'll see, Wyatt. You'll see they don't care about you like I do. They don't love you like I love you.''

When he lifts his eyes to where she should be standing, shaking away the stars and the pain, she's not there. He wonders why he's even surprised.

* * *

She's wrong.

She _has _to be wrong.

There's no way his parents could ever forget him. There's no way his Mom could _ever_ forget that he's her son. Before Dad became Dad he was just _Dean_ and Mom was _everything_. Practically his whole life Mom had been all he had and there's just...there's no way she would ever forget that. Right? _Right?_

Wyatt releases a sigh as he makes his way quickly down the sidewalk. Just one more block to go and then he'll be on his street. The he can get home, get back to Mom and Dad and they can go smoke this crazy, lovesick ghost gal. His legs are already aching and the cold air has seeped through his jacket, but he keeps walking. Because he needs to get home. When he gets home, things will be better.

When he hears the familiar bark of Mrs. Emerson's yappy little yorkie that Dad hates with a passion, relief starts to sink into his already tired bones and the adrenaline kicks in. He speeds up, practically sprinting down the street at top speed. He stops when he comes to the familiar house and for a second, he just stands there and drinks in the sight of home. Then he decides to quit wasting his time and he rushes forwards. As he's reaching for the doorknob, he's startled into stumbling backwards a step when the door flings open.

His mother stands there in all her glory, a surprised ''oh!'' escaping her lips at the sight of him.

He lets out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and darts forwards, wrapping his arms around her waist. ''Mom!'' He only allows himself to take a small amount of comfort in the familiar way she feels, looks and smells like vanilla and then he realizes she's not hugging him back. Dread settles in his throat like a bad case of food poisoning and he pulls away from her to meet her eyes.

''Uh, sweetie,'' she says carefully, looking down at him with something akin to concern in her eyes. ''I think you have the wrong house.''

Disbelief fills his eyes and his throat aches terribly as he steps away from her like she's a stranger. Which, he supposes, she kind of is now. ''What?'' He croaks out. ''But...But...''

''Who are you looking for?'' She smiles at him, but it's not the right kind. It's not the smile she gives him when he's scared or sad. It's the smile she gives the girl scouts who sell them cookies every year or the smile she offers his friends when they're over for dinner. It's a smile for strangers. He's a _stranger_. ''Maybe I can help,'' she says gently.

''Ruby!''

Wyatt startles at the voice coming from inside the house and he looks past his mother to his father who's moving to stand beside Mom with Ella on his hip. ''Oh,'' he smiles pleasantly and wraps an arm around Mom. ''Who's this?''

''Dad...'' Wyatt whispers desperately.

Dad looks at him for a brief moment and Wyatt almost allows himself to believe Dad will remember him. But then he frowns and shakes his head and Wyatt loses a little more faith. ''Sorry?''

In her father's arms, Ella twists and struggles and reaches for the boy standing on the doorstep. Wyatt's eyes widen when he catches sight of recognition in her eyes. Well, great. The only one who can remember him is a seven month old infant who doesn't have the power to speak up and tell everyone that something is terribly wrong. That's comforting. ''Uh...'' He clears his throat and takes a step back, looking away from them sharply when Mom opens her mouth to speak. ''...I-I'm sorry. You're...You're right. Wrong house.''

''Are you looking for your parents, honey?'' Mom asks.

Wyatt lets a bitter smile cross his lips briefly. ''Yeah,'' he murmurs dully, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

''What are their names? Maybe I know them.''

He meets her eyes bravely and shoots her a sad smile, shaking his head forlornly. ''You wouldn't know them.'' He turns to go, feeling the pressure building and building behind his blue eyes and when he hears Mom's, ''wait!'' he breaks into a run and forces himself not to look back because he refuses to let them see him cry.

* * *

Usually, Dean quite likes Thursdays. He's not exactly sure why he enjoys Thursdays so much, they're just something he's always liked.

Today is different. Today there is something unknown eating at him and he has no idea what it is. But it's there in the back of his mind. It whispers and itches and crawls under his skin and it physically hurts him. Whatever this is, he can't shake the feeling that it's a big deal. There is an unexplainable guilt on his shoulders that seems too heavy to be about something like forgetting to drop an overdue movie off. He tries all day to unlock that door in the back of his mind, but he can't find the key and as the day wears on, he knows - he knows - something is horribly wrong.

At first, he thinks maybe he's forgotten their wedding anniversary or maybe her birthday, but that's not it. He has always been good at remembering those kinds of things. He's a man and he should be pre-programmed to forget like the clichéd men in stupid ass sitcoms. He remembers things. He's like a friggin' elephant that way. Except, of course, when it comes to whatever it is that he's forgetting.

* * *

He knows cars.

It's one of the things he's just always known. It's like taking care of Sam. His father used to tell him that he was born with a mechanic's hands and car oil in his blood. Perhaps that is why he has become such a sought after mechanic. No, he is not at all above bragging about that. I mean, sure, he prefers classic beauties to today's newfangled inventions, but he gets the job done all the same. And just like hunting in the past, when he's working all he's thinking about is work.

Once again; today is different for reasons he cannot fathom.

He just can't seem to concentrate. Tools slip from his hands, he slices his finger and he burns his tongue on his coffee. All because those little whispers are getting louder. His boss eyes him strangely, looking like he's torn between leaving the issue alone or asking if he's all right. Eventually, it's a co-worker who approaches him. Not very nicely either. ''Hey, Winchester!''

Dean jumps, which is not a wise thing to do when your head is under the hood of a car, and he winds up smacking his head on the hood. Biting back a hiss of pain, he brings a hand to the back of his head and sends a glare towards the other man. ''What, Tony?''

''What's wrong with you? You seem a little...off.''

''Well,'' Dean says slowly, wiping his hands off on an oil rag. ''I have a head wound now.''

''Yes, hilarious,'' Tony sneers. ''But you were off long before that. You get in a fight with Ruby or somethin'?''

Dean lets a smirk fall across his lips with ease. ''You know, Tony,'' he drawls. ''We're not women. We don't need to cry and hug. I don't do that shit.''

''First of all, that was sexist. Second of all, well, who the fuck pissed in your cheerios this morning?''

''You're a very eloquent man. Has anyone ever told you that?''

''Okay, Dean,'' the older man steps forward and grabs Dean's wrist. ''You bled all over the Honda because you cut yourself with a wrench.'' He waves the offending wounded finger in his face, smirking lightly. ''A _wrench_, man. Who the fuck cuts themselves with a fuckin' wrench? That's just pathetic.''

Dean scowls and jerks his arm out of Tony's grasp. He's got enough on his fucking mind, okay? He doesn't need some nosy co-worker getting into his business. Even if said co-worker is a friend and a neighbor and has a seven year old son who is best friends with -

He stops short, tightens his jaw and doesn't know the end to that train of thought.

...Strange.

''I'm fine,'' he finally grinds out, pressing his lips together tightly.

''The last time you acted like this was when you found out Ruby was pregnant,'' Tony says wisely.

''I wasn't that bad,'' Dean mutters under his breath.

''You ran into a door.''

''Because somebody slammed it in my face!''

Tony ignores him, chuckling lightly as he leans back against the car. ''Is that what's going on?'' He asks. ''Is Ruby pregnant again?''

''What? No. God, no. She did ask me about having a little boy. But no.'' Dean shakes his head and tries to focus, pushing that nagging feeling that he's forgetting something to the back of his mind. ''She's not pregnant. Just...I'm fine,'' he waves his hand dismissively and makes an attempt to send his friend what he hopes is a convincing smile. ''Really. I just need a cup of coffee.''

Tony doesn't seem to buy his story even a little bit (and Dean can't really blame him for that) but when Dean brushes past him, he doesn't follow.

* * *

There's a picture in the break room, drawn by Tony's son, Jordan, that none of the guys ever dare to take down. There's nothing wrong with being proud of your children and most of the guys are parents themselves and they're all big damn softies at heart so they can't really talk.

Dean can't recall the last time he took a moment to actually look at the picture. It's not that he's a heartless bastard. He gets it. He still has a picture Sam drew for him when he was five tucked away in his wallet. It's just that it's a drawing by a seven year old (actually, Dean's pretty sure Jordan was probably a little younger when he drew that picture; it has been there forever, after all) and it's not exactly a thought provoking Monet. Not that Dean particularly finds any piece of art really thought provoking, and he's not even really sure who Monet is, but Ruby likes to ramble and he actually does pay attention. Mostly because she gets this look in her eyes when she rambles that he finds irresistible.

But today something makes Dean stop when he sees the picture. He does a double take, his lips turn downwards and he tilts his head to the side, staring at the picture intently. He doesn't know why but...something is eerily familiar about the drawing of the little boy standing next to Jordan.

It happens fast and makes Dean suck in a sharp breath. It's a memory of something that never was and he has no logical reason for it other than the fact that maybe he's going insane. That's what it has to be. What else could it be?

_''Well, Dean, I'm Ruby. And this little troublemaker is Wyatt.''_

_''It's nice to meet you, Ruby. And you too, Wyatt.''_

Hmm.

Who the hell is Wyatt?

* * *

Ruby barely makes it through the work day.

She feels shaky and jumpy and guilty. Oh, god, the guilt. It makes every part of her ache and her stomach churns with it. It's also unexplainable and frustrating. In the end, she decides to chalk everything up to illness. She must be coming down with the flu or something. She's listless and her hands shake and she decides it's the flu. It's the only thing it can be. It's the only logical explanation. It's not as if she's just guzzled a bunch of Red Bull and chased it down with espresso.

The only thing her flu excuse doesn't explain is the guilt and the fact that she can't close her eyes. Even blinking is hard to do, which is just plain ridiculous. But every single time she closes her eyes, she sees that little boy from this morning. He had looked so scared and lost. And something about him had been...hauntingly familiar. Like she was looking at someone who should have meant something to her. Someone who should have meant everything.

Maybe it's just because she's a mom. By the way, it feels like she's been a mom for way longer than seven months. Seven months feels like seven years. It feels like all she knows how to be is a mom. Whatever the reason, she can't get that little boy off her mind. Or the guilt that picks away at her and tells her, in no uncertain terms, that she is somehow behaving like a bad mother. There's no logical reason for that either, but logic doesn't seem to be here today.

She's not a bad mother. She's not. She tries so hard to be everything for her kids. _Kid._ She has done her best for seven..._months._ She is a good mother and a good person. She knows that. Her mysterious illness is just messing with her. That's all.

(Yes, she's perfectly aware that doesn't make any sense, thank you very much.)

* * *

She knows art.

It's all she's known since she was a little girl and her Grandma Ruby (her namesake) put a paintbrush in her hand and told her to ''draw me a world, baby girl.'' She knows art like she knows the back of her hand. Every brushstroke, every line in pencil or chalk, every story in the painting. She knows it all. Usually, she can tune out the rest of the world when she's working. Whether she's creating the art or just working with it, she can usually shut out the world.

Today she can't shut out anything. She can't tune out the world, she can't concentrate and she blames it on the mysterious illness that has to be plaguing her all the while fully aware that she is not even a little bit sick.

She does have a lot to do today. There are shipping orders that need to be completed and sent out by the end of the week and there's a gala set for November 14th that she should be preparing for. Instead, she winds up sitting in her office, twirling in her chair like the sulky teenager she once was. She should probably be embarrassed by this, but her mind is so elsewhere it's not even funny.

''What are you doing?''

Ruby startles and whirls around in her chair, letting out a small nervous laugh at the sight of her cousin standing in the doorway, hands planted on her hips, smirk crawling across her lips. ''Aggie,'' she smoothes down her dress absently. ''What are you doing here?''

''Well, cuz,'' the younger girl moves over to the wall, eyeing a painting critically. ''I was going to offer to buy you lunch. But I see you're busy revisiting your youth. Did you do this?'' She gestures towards the painting as she sinks into a vacant chair.

Ruby blinks at her, trying to determine whether or not she's being serious. When she figures out that Aggie is one hundred percent serious, she sighs and shakes her head. ''Aggie, that's a Degas.''

''Oh,'' Aggie nods like she understands. ''Right. The dude who liked naked women bathing themselves and dancers, right?''

Ruby opens her mouth to give Aggie yet another lecture on art and then snaps her jaw shut, turning her gaze back to the papers in front of her. ''Yeah, sure. Him.'' She plucks a pencil from the desk mere seconds before it rolls off the table and reaches into her drawer to retrieve a sketchpad.

Aggie arches an eyebrow and crosses one leg over the other primly, pushing dark hair from her eyes. ''You seem...a little less perky today. I mean, not that you're regularly Little Miss Sunshine, but...I don't know. You seem kinda down.''

Ruby shrugs and tries to avoid the issue, pencil scratching across the blank paper with ease. ''I'm fine.''

Aggie frowns, leans closer and it's not long before Ruby begins to feel a little uncomfortable. Aggie has always been a little too good at reading people. It's freakish. Although, Mom always did say that the Marquez women had gypsy blood in them. When she was a little girl, Ruby wanted so badly to have actual Marquez blood in her so she could be a gypsy. ''I don't think that word means what you think it means, sweetie,'' Aggie finally says with a grin.

Ruby rolls her eyes. ''I'm just a little distracted, that's all.''

''Distracted,'' Aggie repeats, stealing the cup of coffee off of Ruby's desk. ''By what?''

Honestly? No idea. She has no idea why she's so distracted or why the face of some strange little boy is haunting her. All she knows is that she feels unchangeably guilty and she can't stop thinking about the confused, lost boy. ...Oh yeah. That won't make her sound crazy at all. Perhaps gypsy blood runs in the Marquez blood and all that runs in the blood of her birth parents is insanity. Super duper. ''I don't want to talk about it.''

''Did you have a fight with Dean?''

''Is I don't want to talk about it lost on you?''

''Yes. So...fight with Dean?''

''No.''

''Is Ella okay?''

''She's fine.''

''Gran didn't criticize you on your choice of husband again, did she? Because you know she means well. She's just the Emily to your Lorelai. And Dean's your Luke.''

Ruby looks up from what she's doing briefly to slide her cousin a look. ''I'm guessing you marathoned Gilmore Girls again?''

''Last weekend.''

''It's not Gran.''

''...You're not pregnant again, are you?''

''_No_, Agatha.''

''Then what?'' Aggie all but whines. ''Come on, Ruby. You're killing me here.''

Ruby draws in a breath and tries to come up with a way to word this without sounding like a lunatic. ''Do you ever...feel like you're forgetting something?''

Aggie shrugs. ''What? You mean like did I forget to turn the oven off? Well, sure. Doesn't everyone?''

Ruby licks her lips uncomfortably and briefly looks down at what she's doing without actually seeing what she's doing. ''Actually, I was thinking something bigger. Like...is there something I should be doing? Someone I'm supposed to _know_?''

Aggie stares at her blankly. ''I don't know, Ruby. That's never happened to me before. But don't stress yourself out over it,'' she puts the coffee cup back on the table and offers her a bright smile. ''It's probably nothing.''

''Yeah,'' Ruby makes her best attempt at a smile and hopes it looks convincing enough. ''You're right. It's probably nothing.''

''Now, onto more important things.'' Aggie grins and rises to her feet. ''My offer of lunch still stands. Come on, it'll help get your mind off of things.''

Ruby opens her mouth to protest, to say she's got too much work to do, but she knows Aggie well enough to know that she will not give up until she gets what she wants. ''All right.'' She drops her pencil and stands, reaching for her jacket. ''Lunch sounds great.''

''I knew I'd break you. Oh, hey,'' Aggie reaches forwards to grab the discarded sketchpad, smiling lightly at the picture. ''Who's this cutie?''

Shrugging on her jacket, Ruby distractedly looks over her shoulder only to freeze and go still when she sees the face she's been drawing. Swallowing hard, she takes the sketch and tries to breathe. It's the little boy from this morning. It's a strange boy who she doesn't know and she's just drawn his face in startling detail from memory. ''...I don't know,'' she says honestly. ''I don't know who that is.''

But she feels - she _knows_ - that she should.

* * *

Pretending they're all right is hard. Making it through the day is difficult. But making it through the night without fighting with each other is impossible. Again; neither of them can explain their jumpiness. But when they get jumpy, they both get a little snappy and short with each other. It's just in their personalities. When they're scared, she goes bitchy and he goes cold. It certainly doesn't help that Ella seems to be incredibly frustrated with both of them. She squirms and wiggles in their arms and her screams have enough volume to wake the dead.

Dean is sure she's trying to tell them something. Ruby says she's probably coming down with something. Which leads to another argument that goes something like this:

''Our daughter is not Lassie, Dean.''

''Fine, but if Timmy is stuck in a well, I'm going to scream 'I told you so' in your face until the cows come home. And then I'm going to scream in the cows' faces.''

''Why does _everything_ have to be a joke with you? I swear it's like being married to a twelve year old.''

''Hey, it's better to laugh than cry.''

''I'm not laughing.''

''Yeah, well, has anyone ever told you you're a little uptight there, Princess?''

''...I can't talk to you.''

By the end of the night, they're not speaking to each other and they're both pressed to opposite sides of the bed because he'll be damned if he has to sleep on the couch.

In the middle of the night, he awakens from a restless slumber (that thing about never going to bed angry is good advice; he can never get a good night's sleep when Ruby's mad at him) to an empty bed. His hand snakes to the space where she should be and all he feels is empty air. Groggily, he opens his eyes and lifts his head, frowning at the space beside him. He sends a glance towards the bathroom, but the door is wide open and the light is off.

At the end of the bed, Tallie opens one eye and looks at him.

With a groan, he lets his head fall back onto the pillow and rubs his tired eyes. The clock on the bedside table reads 3:07 and he has no idea where Ruby is. Eventually, he drags himself out of bed, choking back a yawn and he staggers out into the hallway.

Then comes the disturbing part. He finds her in the spare bedroom. That's not the disturbing part. What's disturbing is that he finds his wife sitting back against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest, her hands in her hair, sniffling quietly. All of that coupled with the papers scattered around her, all depicting the same face of the same little boy lead to quite a disturbing image. ''Ruby...'' Whatever frustration he may have had towards her earlier in the evening instantly disappears and he's at her side within a second. ''Sweetheart, look at me.''

She lifts her head slowly and he has to draw in a breath when he sees her red, bloodshot eyes. He has always hated when she cried. ''I can't stop, Dean,'' she gasps out and the terror in her voice does absolutely nothing to comfort him.

''Can't stop what, baby?''

She shoves one of the drawings at his chest, tears still leaking from her eyes. ''This, Dean! I can't stop...seeing him. Every time I close my eyes, it's that boy I see. And...And I don't understand it! I don't know who he is. I don't understand what he's supposed to mean!'' She breaks off in another round of sobs and shrinks back farther against the wall. ''But he means _something_,'' she mutters hoarsely. ''He means something to me. I just...I don't know what.'' She shakes her head, making a valiant effort to calm down. ''I think he's important.''

He wants to say something to her that will offer her some level of comfort, but he can't. His eyes are glued to the picture and there's a name racing through his mind.

_Wyatt._

When she catches sight of his frown, her walls go up. Crossing her arms defensively, she looks away from him. ''I'm not crazy,'' she rasps. ''I'm _not_.''

''You're not crazy,'' he agrees, clearing his throat. When she looks at him doubtfully, he sighs and wraps his arms around her.

She slumps against him, looking upset and exhausted as she presses her forehead against his shoulder. ''I bet you say that to all the girls.''

''Hey.'' He grasps her shoulders and pulls her away from him to meet her eyes. ''Ruby, you are _not_ crazy. You're not. Look, it may sound strange but...I believe you.'' His eyes fall to the many pictures littering the ground once again and he has to swallow hard.

''You do?''

Dean nods wordlessly, pinching his lips together in thought. ''I think...I think his name is Wyatt.''

''Wyatt,'' she repeats the name like it means something and he can tell just by looking at her that it startles her how natural it feels for that name to slip from her lips. It startles him too. ''H-How do you know that?''

He tenses and runs a hand over his face, letting the paper fall back to the ground silently. ''I don't know. I just..._know_.''

She swipes at her eyes and stands on unsteady legs, moving away from him and towards the window. He watches as she stares out the window, the tears on her cheeks glistening in the moonlight and when he notices the way she's trembling, he stands and moves to place his hands on her shoulders. She bristles at his touch and whips around, blond hair brushing against his chest. ''_What_ is _happening_ to us, Dean? Why is it happening? Can't we just live a normal life for once? That's all I want. A nice, normal life with a nice, normal family a-and I don't understand why the world keeps fucking things up for us! We are good people! We don't...We don't...''

''Hey,'' Dean steps forwards and closes the distance between them to envelope his wife in his arms before she can begin to hyperventilate. ''Ruby, I don't know,'' he murmurs into her hair. ''I don't know what's going on and I don't know why, but we're going to figure this out.'' He says it like a vow. Like a promise. ''I promise you, I will fix this.'' He just hopes this is a promise he can keep.

* * *

Wyatt Joseph Daniels is a very strong boy. (He's not a _little boy_. He's not _little_ at all.) He knows this because his mother said so. He's smart, capable, brave and wise beyond his years. People tell him he is stubborn like his mother and just as courageous. Like a little lion man.

But right now he doesn't feel very courageous. He doesn't feel brave or wise beyond his years. He just feels cold, hungry, tired, terrified and more than anything, he feels _alone._ His own parents don't remember who he is. What the heck is he supposed to do now?

Shivering and growing more and more afraid of the dark with every passing second, Wyatt walks the darkened streets alone. With his head down, his hands stuffed into his pockets, he kicks at the stones on the ground and mutters under his breath. He really wishes he had Tallie with him. He doesn't know where he's going, he doesn't know what to do and he can feel a temper tantrum coming on. He can't help it. He's about to start crying and screaming and he doesn't even care. He's tired and scared and it's all bubbling to the surface.

Blinking away tears, Wyatt bites down on his lip hard to keep from crying and plops down on the edge of the Peterson's lawn.

No._ No._

He cannot do this. He has to be brave. Winchesters are _brave._ Closing his eyes, he draws in a deep breath and tries to calm down. He can fix this. He can. He's not totally helpless. Just because he's a kid doesn't mean he can't get things done. He is Wyatt Joseph Daniels the Very Strong Kid, for goodness sake. He can fix this _himself._

''I told you,'' a voice whispers in his ear.

He yelps in surprise and when he turns to the speaker, he instantly scrambles away from her, palms digging into the soft grass. ''You.''

She smiles, drawing her knees up to her chest. ''I told you they didn't love you like I love you.''

He shakes his head furiously, jaw tightening in frustration. ''Why won't you leave me alone?''

Her eyes darken and she sends him a sneer. ''Because we were supposed to be together, Wyatt. You and me...We're soul mates. Sooner or later, you'll realize that.''

''I'm not your soulmate,'' he says shakily.

''Oh, of course you are.'' In the blink of an eye, she has knelt down in front of him and the next thing he knows she's outstretching a hand towards his cheek. He wants to move, his brain is telling him to move, but he seems to be struck by momentary paralysis. He closes his eyes tightly and waits for the freezing touch. It never comes. When he hesitantly opens his eyes, there is no one to be seen and a breath leaves his lungs with a whoosh. Of course then horror crashes down upon him again. Seconds before he loses all control of his emotions, he remembers something Dad told him right after he moved in with them.

_''If you're ever in trouble and your mom and I aren't around, call - ''_

Cas!

''Oh!'' He pushes himself onto his knees and looks up at the dark night sky in desperation. ''Dude! Cas! Cas, it's me. Listen, you...you have to remember me. You're an angel. Dad said...He said if I ever needed help and I couldn't go to him or mom then I was supposed to call you and...and I need help.'' He has to blink again because his eyes are suddenly burning again and he's determined not to cry. ''Please,'' he's begging now, knees in the damp grass on someone else's lawn. ''A-And I know you're busy and all, but...you have to help me. No one else can.''

He expects some great fanfare. A sudden lightning streak across the sky or thunder to let him know that the angel has heard him. But all he gets in response to his desperate pleas is deafening silence. ...Huh. Well, that's disheartening. That's it. It's official. He's all alone now. Okay. He's going to cry now.

''Wyatt.''

The boy goes still, eyes widening in shock. When he turns around, Castiel is standing there, trench coat and all, looking eternally confused as always. And then it hits Wyatt that Cas called him by _name._ With wide eyes and an open mouth, all he can do is stare.

''Wyatt,'' Cas says again. ''Is something wro - ''

The shock dissolves, replaced by that little string of hope returning and Wyatt lunges forwards to catch the startled angel in a hug. Castiel doesn't do hugs, Wyatt knows that. But he is a scared seven year old boy who has just had hope returned to him and he wants a freaking hug, okay? And he may be Wyatt Joseph Daniels, the Very Strong Kid. But he is still just a kid and...

...The fact of the matter is he can't do this on his own.

**end chapter two**

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**AN: Yay, Cas is back. Okay, so I'm hoping the next chapter will be up on Halloween so...look forward to that, peoples.**


	3. Forget me not

_AN: I did it! I got the next chapter up by Halloween. I feel proud. Okay, so I'm really liking this chapter so far because it's got lots of awesome!Sam and badass!Cas and smartass!Wyatt so I hope you all enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**Goodnight, Moon**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

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* * *

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_Part Three:_

_''Forget me not''_

_

* * *

_

''...and now nobody remembers me and this ghost chick won't leave me alone and I don't know what to do so you have to help me!''

Wyatt finishes his story with a gulp of air, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. The boy sinks onto the edge of the sidewalk and Castiel is left to study him carefully. He does not do well with children. It's a fact. It's not something that has particularly bothered him in the past, but Wyatt Daniels is different. Wyatt is very special to Dean and Dean is very special to Castiel. So he gives this whole _child_ thing his best shot. ''Wyatt,'' he eyes the sidewalk dubiously and then slowly sits down next to Wyatt, whose lips are beginning to tremble.

''You think I'm psycho,'' Wyatt moans, burying his face in his hands. ''You think I'm cuckoo for cocoa puffs.''

Castiel blinks. ''That is...a breakfast cereal. Am I right?''

Wyatt seems thrown by the question, frowning slightly. Something that Castiel doesn't fully understand because he thinks his question was perfectly valid. ''Uh...yeah.''

''Would you like some?''

''What? No.''

''Then I don't think you're cuckoo for cocoa puffs. Are they really that satisfying to people that it makes them question their mental health?''

The boy looks at him like he has four heads and then allows a smirk to grace his lips. It's a smirk that could rival Dean's and a smirk that bears a strong resemblance to Ruby's, that's what Castiel knows. ''You're...not very good at this, are you?''

''Good at what?''

''Comforting people.''

''Oh.'' Genuinely surprised, Castiel turns to look at the child. ''Is this a comforting moment?''

''Kinda, yeah.''

''Right. Yes, well...'' Awkwardly, Castiel reaches towards Wyatt and then pauses, fingers flexing like he knows he should be doing something but he isn't sure what. Finally, he leans forwards and lightly pats Wyatt on the top of the head, offering him a ''There, there'' and a barely-there-for-a-fraction-of-a-second-smile. Wyatt stares up at him with big eyes reminiscent of Ruby's. He opens and closes his mouth a few times only to close it right away and shake his head. ''How was that?'' Castiel questions, head tilted to the side ever so slightly.

''It was, uh,'' Wyatt smiles and pats the angel's shoulder sympathetically. ''It was great. Very comforting. Feel proud.'' Lips twitching, he stands and brushes dirt off his close. ''So, you don't think I'm insane?''

''I believe you're perfectly sane.''

''And you...I-I mean, you believe me? About the ghost?''

''Yes.''

''And you remember me?''

''If I didn't, I wouldn't be here.''

''Great, so what's your plan?''

''Plan?''

Wyatt heaves a sigh and shifts from foot to foot. ''Yes, a plan. To, you know, fix this. 'Cause I sure don't got one and you're all angel-like. You're supposed to have awesome plans.''

Castiel stands, brushes off his coat with an odd amount of _care_, stares at him for a long time (it's really, really unnerving) and then he sends a glance down the street towards the Winchester-Daniels house in the distance. ''I need to speak with your parents.''

''Right now?''

''Soon. First, I need to get you somewhere safe,'' he declares. ''You're incredibly important, Wyatt. You need to be protected.''

Wyatt finds himself blushing lightly as he looks down at the ground briefly. The next thing he knows, there's a heavy hand on his shoulder and when he lifts his gaze, he's not outside on the dark streets of his neighborhood anymore. He's standing beside Castiel in a strange room and there are four all too familiar (and not familiar in a super way, by the way) people pointing guns at them. Oh yeah. Real safe. ''I don't feel safe!'' He squeaks, ducking behind Castiel and gripping his trench coat fearfully. ''I don't feel safe!''

Castiel, on the other hand, appears unfazed by the weaponry pointed at him. Well, great for him. He's all invincible and stuff, but Wyatt is so totally not.

''Wait!''

A figure pushes past the people with guns and Wyatt lets out a breath of the person's name. ''Sam...''

For a second, there's only tense silence while Sam stares at Castiel like he's some kind of mirage. When he finally speaks, his jaw is clenched and his tone is clipped yet his body is still positioned in between Castiel and the people with the guns as if to protect. ''Cas?''

In response, the angel nods. ''Hello.''

And then Sam makes that face that Mom and Dad call his _bitchface_ and Wyatt sighs. ''Hello?'' Oh, he sounds mad. His whole body twitches in what looks like monster frustration and he steps towards them. ''Cas..._hello_?''

''Tell your _family_ to lower their weapons,'' Castiel spits out impatiently. Wyatt can't help but notice he kind of says the word family like it's made out of dirt. ''You're scaring the boy.''

As if suddenly noticing the frightened boy behind Castiel, the Campbells reluctantly lower their weapons and Sam's eyes widen in shock. ''Castiel,'' he says slowly, eyes glued to Wyatt as the small boy steps out from behind his angel shield. ''Why is there a kid with you?''

Castiel frowns. ''Sam, this is Wyatt.''

''Uh...'' Sam raises his eyebrows and shrugs in confusion. Wyatt's heart sinks even further. ''Yeah, that's gonna need a little more explanation.''

''He doesn't appear to remember you,'' Castiel deadpans with a quick look in Wyatt's direction.

''I got that,'' Wyatt mutters. ''Thanks.''

''Sam,'' Wyatt blinks and then Castiel is extremely close to Sam, frown tugging at the edges of his mouth. ''This is Wyatt Daniels.''

''Daniels?'' Sam cuts in before Castiel can say another word, taking a step away from the angel with space issues. ''As in - ''

''Ruby's son.''

Wyatt winces slightly at Castiel's bluntness, watching Sam purse his lips thoughtfully. Although, what else can he really expect from Castiel? He's not exactly a fan of breaking things gently. ''Ruby has a son?'' Sam asks slowly.

A small break passes through Castiel's lips, almost like a sigh. ''Someone has taken your memories of Wyatt away. Wyatt says it's a ghost. I need to go fix this. You need to keep him here with you. You may not remember him now, but you care greatly for this boy.''

While Sam stares at him somewhat suspiciously and Wyatt groans and drops his head into his hands, Samuel Campbell finally seems to regain control of his voice. ''Is this a joke?'' He asks gruffly. Wyatt does not, at all, appreciate the look in his eyes. It makes him feel incredibly weary about this whole situation. ''You expect us to believe - '' He jumps back when there's a sudden pair of startling blue eyes right in his face.

''I expect you to believe what I'm telling you,'' Castiel states simply. ''It's the truth.''

''Ruby has a _son_?'' Sam repeats like the words are in another language he doesn't understand.

''It's all a little farfetched, don't you think?'' Samuel asks, crossing his arms. ''Not to mention the fact that my grandson has been praying to you for a year and you never bothered to show your face. Until now. When _you_ need a favor.''

Castiel doesn't reply for a long moment, sparing a glance in Wyatt's direction briefly before choosing his words carefully. ''There is a small, petrified child in need of help and you want to talk about Sam's emotional turmoil because I ignored him?'' He shakes his head in disappointment. ''I don't know why Dean used to speak so highly of you. But I understand why he stopped.'' Blissfully unaware of Samuel's wounded look, Castiel turns back to Sam and takes a step forwards. ''Sam,'' his voice is softer, though not by much and his eyes pierce into the younger man like knives. As usual. ''Your memories of Wyatt may be gone, but when you get them back, you'll remember how much Wyatt means. If you don't take care of him now, you _will _regret it.'' Sam sighs. Wyatt impatiently bounces on the balls of his feet. ''You know your brother, Sam. You know what family means to him. If you turn away his son in a time of need, what do you think he'll do to you?''

It may be a threat, but it works wonders. Sam pales, swallows and eventually nods. (Wyatt's just wondering if Cas is God. 'Cause the dude may be a bit of a dork, but he's freaking awesome.) ''Okay,'' he says softly. ''Okay, I'll keep him here. I'll keep him safe.''

''If there is one hair out of place on that boy's head - ''

''I said I'd keep him safe,'' Sam snaps. ''I'm not incompetent, Cas.''

''He requires rest and sustenance.''

''All right.''

''He doesn't trust your acquaintances. Keep them at bay.''

''O-_kay_, Cas.''

Castiel turns, looks at Wyatt and offers him a small nod. ''Stay with Sam. I'm going to fix this, Wyatt.''

There is still major trepidation on Wyatt's part. Of course there is. Sam doesn't remember him, which is bound to make things a little awkward and Wyatt doesn't trust the Campbells because his parents don't. But something about the way Castiel says ''I'm going to fix this, Wyatt'' sends a wave of reassurance through his bones. Cas will fix this. He's Cas. He has to.

* * *

Sam's...never really been good with kids. That was always Dean's specialty. It's not that Sam doesn't like kids and it's not like he doesn't try. Dean's just...always been better at handling kids. Comforting them, making them feel at ease. _Relating _to them. When he thinks about it, this issue really seems to stem back to childhood. Dean was always the babysitter, the big brother and when their dad was gone, Dean stepped into the roles of both Mom and Dad with extreme ease for such a young kid. Sam was always the one being babied. He never had any practice doing the babying.

But Sam does not have his big brother anymore and there is a wide eyed child in need of safety and it's time to step up, Sam. Because, honestly, who else is there? The Campbells? Um, no. If Cas is telling the truth, then it's Sam's job to keep the Campbells away from this Wyatt boy. The first time Ruby met the Campbells and Samuel asked about his great granddaughter, the first thing Ruby did was clutch Ella to her chest and scowl with distrustful eyes. And the last thing Sam wants to do is to end up on the wrong end of Ruby's wrath. Seriously, the woman is scary as hell. (Bad joke.)

''Just how reliable is this guy?''

Sam sighs in exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes so he won't have to look at Gwen's suspicious eyes. ''Very,'' he finally mutters. ''The guy is an angel of the Lord, okay? I pretty much learned to trust him when he _dragged my brother out of hell_.''

''Too bad he wouldn't do the same for you, huh?'' She replies with a nasty sneer.

He blanches and has to swallow hard. The Campbells have their flaws, sure, but Sam has his fair share of flaws too and they're family so that has to mean something, right? He puts up with them because they share his blood, they're damn good hunters and it's much too easy to get lonely living this life without someone there with you. But the one thing he has asked for is for them to refrain from talking or asking him about his time spent down South. So far the only two people that have listened are Mark and Samuel because Samuel at least appears to have some decency and Mark...doesn't really talk about anything. But Gwen and Christian? They apparently have no boundaries.

''That was different,'' he winds up saying quietly. ''You can't compare - Look, if Cas says this is Ruby's son and I have to protect him, then this is Ruby's son and I _have_ to protect him.'' He glances towards Wyatt, who is somewhat hesitantly eating the sandwich that has been made for him, all the while studying the possibly too close Mark and Christian with narrowed eyes.

Well, there are definitely similarities between Wyatt and Ruby.

''We don't even know what we're protecting him from,'' Gwen says reasonably. ''I mean, angelboy_ says _a ghost, but how are we - ''

''We?'' Sam arches an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. ''There is no _we_ in this, Gwen. You heard Cas, Wyatt doesn't trust you - ''

''Mighty convenient, don't you think? Getting you alone with - ''

''You know,'' a small voice drawls slowly. ''My mom thinks you're a bitch.'' All eyes go to Wyatt and Gwen stares down at him with her mouth hanging open. ''And she's usually right.'' Ignoring the shocked silence that follows his declaration, Wyatt turns his determined gaze to Sam. ''I can prove to you that Ruby's my mom,'' he says matter-of-factly. ''I'll bet you there are things about you that no one else knows other than my Mom and Dad.''

''Uh...'' Taken aback by how alike Wyatt is to his supposed mother, Sam nods. ''Okay.''

''Well, um...you're scared of clowns,'' Wyatt nods proudly, oblivious to Sam's awkward wince when all eyes go to him. ''I know Dad likes to tease you about that. Personally, I don't blame you. Clowns are fugly. Uh...oh! When Dad died, you came to visit me once while I was at school and I've...I've never told Mom because I like having something...just you and me. But...if you don't remember me, you wouldn't remember that. Oh, but you told me...you told me that when you first met Mom you were really scared for Dad because...because Mom reminded you of your mom and your girlfriend, Jess. But you also told me that you saw how happy she made him and that was all you ever wanted. For him to be happy. That's what you told me and you don't have to remember me to...feel that. And...And I know that you don't come around much because things aren't like they used to be with you and Dad. I...don't know why. People tell me it's complicated. But I heard you fighting that one night.'' Wyatt pauses pinching his lips together and doesn't seem to notice the way Sam flinches. ''I remember that night, Uncle Sam. You were both yelling and Ella was crying and I could hear Mom trying to get you and Dad to stop, but you both...you just kept _fighting._ Then there was breaking glass and crashes and you left. Your tires screeched and left marks on the road and Dad never cries, but I know he cried that night. 'Cause, like, I know he loves me and Ella. He...'' Wyatt laughs lightly and looks down for a second. ''He kinda says it all the time. More than Mom, actually. I overheard Mom telling Aggie that it's because he wants to give us a better childhood then what he had or whatever. But, the point is...you were...you were his first kid and you're...you're a bigger part of him than anyone else could be. That's what I remember. That's what makes me real.'' He pauses, blinks, tilts his head to the side and then he smirks. ''Oh yeah, and Aggie likes you and thinks you're cute. Who else would know _that_?'' He takes in a breath and smiles nervously before ducking his head in embarrassment. ''Sorry. That was a lot of talking. People say I ramble like my mother.''

He doesn't get an answer because everyone is too busy staring at him.

Instead of getting discouraged, he shrugs. ''I told you I could prove it.'' And then he turns around and sits back down.

Mark says, ''Huh.'' (That's the _really _remarkable part.)

Sam has been trying so hard to forget about that night. He's been trying so hard to forget a lot of things. It feels like little pieces of his soul are chipping away day by day and the only one who can patch him up barely talks to him anymore and when he does, he talks to him like he's a stranger. Ever since hell and the things he's seen, he's been working so hard to build up walls that keep all the things he doesn't have time to sort through away. It deeply unnerves him that all it took to break those walls down was a child.

The truth is, Sam can relate to this kid. Wyatt has been forgotten by everyone who has ever loved him. His existence has been stripped away by some ghost. And if there is one thing Sam has learned in this past year, it's how awful it feels to be _forgotten._

(Because while Dean is off being the husband and father he was always meant to be, Sam is left out in the cold, wondering where he fits into the picture and remembering a time when he was all Dean needed.)

* * *

''Okay, thanks Bobby.'' Dean lets out a sigh and leans back against the kitchen counter, rubbing at his forehead. ''Yeah, I'll call you if I find out anything.'' He ends the phone call feeling more helpless than ever, dropping the cell phone unceremoniously onto the counter. If Bobby has no idea what's going on then it's bad. If _Bobby_ has no possible explanation then they're freaking screwed. Worn out and feeling the beginning effects of a headache starting, Dean turns, braces himself against the counter and briefly thinks about calling the funny farm to come and take him away. He has an idea...just a vague idea of who this Wyatt kid could be. But it's a crazy thought and he's sure he's wrong. He _has_ to be wrong. It's just so...so..._weird. _Then again, when has his life been _not_ weird?

Tightening his jaw, he plucks the phone from the counter, scrolls through the contacts and sucks in a breath when he lands on the name he was looking for. He stares at the name Sam for an unbearable amount of time while he debates whether or not to call (like a big _girl_) and then he shakes his head and turns off his phone. He's pretty sure Sam wouldn't want to talk to him anyway.

Shaking off whatever bit of pain he may have felt (which was not a lot because he's fine. He is) he pushes off the counter and stalks out of the kitchen in the direction of the garage. He told Ruby to go about her day. Take Ella to daycare, go to work, he told her to calm down and relax, that he would figure this all out and everything would be okay. But he's not sure how to figure this out and he's running out of options.

He pauses in the garage door, frown tugging at the corners of his lips when he sees the tarp covered car in front of him. A second passes and then another and another until it's been a full minute. Something propels him forwards and his fingers grip the edge of the tarp and before he knows what he's doing, he's pulled the tarp off the Impala. It's shiny and black and reminds him far too much of Sammy for his comfort level. Despite this, he somehow wrangles a half smile to the surface, running his fingers over the car briefly. ''Hi, baby,'' he greets softly. ''Long time no see.''

She never responds to his words, but she's always been a wonderful listener. More than any human out there, she knows every part of him. All of his secrets. (Shut up, it's not that weird.) He pulls open the trunk of the car with ease, staring into the depths of an arsenal.

Most of the time...(he sighs)... he doesn't miss it. Doesn't miss the scratchy, uncomfortable motel beds or the greasy diners or the let's face it, _questionable_ women or the aching loneliness or the whole risking his life thing. But...there are some things he does miss. He can't help it. He's a hunter. It's in his blood. But everyone's gotta retire at some point, right? And he has a family now. He faced the apocalypse, saved a lot of people and now he gets the happy ending with the girl who waited. That's the life he should be focusing on. But his old life just keeps _pulling him back in!_

With another sigh, he lifts his eyes to glance around as if he believes someone will jump out and tell him to stop thinking about the past. That's when he has to do a double take. There's a box high up on a shelf, half turned away, labeled photo albums and there is an inexplicable force drawing him towards it. Frowning, he closes the trunk and moves forwards to heave the heavy (geez, Ruby, take enough pictures?) box off the shelf. Resting it on the closed trunk of the car, Dean pulls out a heavy album, opens it to the first page...and promptly freezes.

It's not like it's a strange picture. Or at least it wouldn't be to anyone else. They'd see a new mother sitting in a hospital bed, glowing with happiness as she fawns over the infant bundled in her arms. However, to Dean...well, to Dean this picture either tells him that Ruby has been hiding a fucking huge secret from him or it's proof that his conspiracy theory is right on the money. Anxious fingers yank the photo out of the protective covering and he flips it over, trying to remind himself to breathe when he sees loopy handwriting on the back.

_Ruby & Wyatt._

Heart racing in his chest, Dean flicks through the rest of the album and then moves onto another. Aside from the pictures of Ruby's frickin' gigantic family (large families are great and all, but her mother's side is practically out of control), there are a lot of pictures of this little boy. He's in every album. He's in almost every picture. Dean is literally watching this boy grow up through photographs and it scares the hell out of him that he doesn't know who he is. It's only when he flips to a page with a picture showcasing Ruby, Sam, Dean and the little boy that the horror strikes and Dean decides it's about time to flip the fuck out.

He fumbles for his cell phone and he's about two seconds away from calling Ruby when that terrible, awful, no good dull headache decides to become a full on fucking brain aneurysm. The pain slams into him like a hammer pounding his head in and a strangled gasp escapes his lips. The cell phone clatters to the ground, a photo album falls when he reaches out for something to hold onto and then he's collapsing to the ground and all he can do is groan in pain while a bright white light explodes behind his eyes. The pain brings images that dance behind his eyelids and it may hurt like hell, but he's _remembering._

He's remembering that he has a son. Holy shit, he has a son. A seven year old son named Wyatt who may not have his blood, but he has his love. How could he _forget_ that? Wyatt likes candy and soccer and Tallie and he's great at science even though he won't admit it. Wyatt has a best friend who reminds Dean of Sam and he hates math like his mother and he likes board games and he loves his family and he adores Ella like Dean adores Sam and he worships the ground his mother walks on like Dean never got the chance to and he's going to be Batman for Halloween because he said he wanted to be like his Dad and...and Dean knows the pressure building behind his eyes has nothing to do with the physical pain.

In the backyard, Tallie's barking like she knows something is horribly wrong.

The pain dies down until it's a dull ache, leaving behind nausea and shock and the images of Wyatt begin to fade. Dean tries to catch them but they slip through his fingers like grains of sand. When he blinks, he's left staring at the gray ceiling of the garage, feeling shaky and nauseous.

Before he can get up or, you know, vomit, a breeze flows through the room and an achingly familiar face swims into view. ''Dean.''

''...Cas?'' No, that can't be right. He hasn't seen Cas in over a year. Cas is up controlling the heavens or whatever. Cas is...Cas is...

''We need to get to Ruby,'' Cas (holy crap, it _is_ him) is saying calmly. ''I'd imagine she's in a great deal of pain right now. I apologize for that. I didn't think returning your memories would be such a painful process. We'll get Ruby and then I'll take you to your son.''

Dean seems to regain a little bit of his focus at that, movements sluggish as he attempts to get up. ''Wyatt...I...I have to - ''

''Dean,'' Cas says firmly. ''Take my hand.''

There's a moment of silence where the words somehow get lost between them. Like so many things, the _thank you _goes left unsaid.

Dean takes the hand that the angel on his shoulder has offered.

Like that's shocking.

* * *

The pain just happens. One minute she's reading the same sentence on a shipping order that she's been re-reading for at least ten minutes, wondering how Dean expects her to stay calm and the next minute the headache she's had all day is turning into horrific agony and then she's on her back with papers fluttering around her and memories slamming through her head. Oh, _god._

Wyatt.

She remembers now. She remembers everything. She's his mom. Wyatt's smile, his laugh, his eyes, the way he scrunches up his nose when he's unhappy, the light dusting of freckles on his nose...The way he's utterly enthralled with everything his sister does, the way he looks up to Dean, the way he always tries to see the good in people no matter what. She remembers being so young and so terrified when she found out she was pregnant, but she also remembers loving him since day one. She remembers tucking him in every night and kissing away his tears when he was sad and holding him when he was scared. She remembers working so hard to be both Mom and Dad for him.

That explains the guilt. She is his mother; she is _never _supposed to forget her son. The worst of the pain passes and the hysteria kicks in. Gulping for air that won't reach her lungs, she reaches out a shaking hand to grasp the edge of her desk, pulling herself into a sitting position. Feeling absolutely weighed down with guilt, the tears build behind her eyes and it doesn't take long for the hysteria to win. She's forgotten her son. She has actually_ forgotten _the existence of her _son_. It's only when it hits her that it's becoming increasingly hard to believe that she realizes she's crying. Sobbing actually.

A gust of wind rustles the papers scattered around her and ruffles her hair and when she looks up, Dean is standing on the other side of the desk with Castiel standing beside him. When he sees her slumped to the ground, dress hiked up just enough to show off her thighs and tears rolling down her cheeks, he rushes forwards and her name leaves his lips in a haunted whisper. ''Ruby...''

She doesn't even have to look at him to know he's remembered everything too. ''Dean,'' she chokes out when he wraps his arms around her. ''Wyatt.'' She grasps at his shirt, struggling to regain a steady breathing pattern. ''We forgot Wyatt.''

There's nothing in the world that can make that _okay._

* * *

It rivals even vision pain on the pain scale. It hits him just as suddenly as the visions used to and much like the visions, a movie begins to play in his head. Only this movie is not about some violent death that he has to stop. It's about a boy who loves with his whole heart and means the world to a lot of people. Including Sam.

Sam's not sure how it happens, but it happens fast. Suddenly a minor headache turns into this terrible pain and then Samuel and Christian are doing their best to hold him up as pain drums into his skull like a jackhammer.

Wyatt! He forgot Wyatt! How could he forget Wyatt? The memories of a fiercely loyal child come rushing back and the guilt sets in. Once the pain has faded, he quickly realizes there is no time to wallow in guilt and self pity right now because there is a scared kid who misses his parents and hasn't gotten enough sleep watching him wearily. Pushing through the left over shakiness, Sam breaks free of Samuel and Christian's hold and takes a step forwards. ''Wyatt...''

Something about the way he says his name must tip Wyatt off because his eyes widen and he swallows hard. ''Sam?''

* * *

''But I don't understand,'' Ruby's saying as she follows after Dean, heels clicking on the stairs. ''Why would this ghost go after Wyatt? He hasn't done anything.''

''That doesn't matter to a ghost, Ruby,'' Dean replies absently. He comes to a stop so suddenly that Ruby winds up plowing right into him, a startled gasp escaping her lips.

''Actually,'' Castiel speaks up from behind them. ''It does matter. The way Wyatt described this girl...it's clear she either knows him or she's been watching him for some time.''

''_Watching_ him?'' Ruby repeats. ''Someone has been _watching_ my son?''

''Quite possibly.''

Her gaze turns to ice and Dean grimaces. She can be real scary when she's all mad and protective. It's something he loves about her. ''I want to know where her bones are,'' Ruby says stiffly. ''I want to know where her bones are so I can send her crazy ass straight to hell.''

Biting back a comment of _that's my girl,_ Dean clears his throat pointedly and opens the door to Wyatt's room. Everything is back in its place and Tallie lounges comfortably on Wyatt's unmade bed. Dean and Ruby don't say anything, but a wave of relief washes over them at the sight of the familiar belongings.

''We have to find out who she is first,'' Castiel says logically, oblivious to the reaction Dean and Ruby are having. He moves past them into Wyatt's room and picks up an old drawing that rests on the desk in the corner, underneath recent homework and old report cards. ''Children have imaginary friends. Did you know that most imaginary friends are actually ghosts? Children are far more susceptible to the paranormal. Therefore they can see things that adults can't. Ruby, did Wyatt ever have an imaginary friend?''

In the doorway, Ruby pales and her nails dig into Dean's arm.

* * *

Uh...this is great and all and Wyatt's more relieved than anyone that Sam remembers, but it's getting hard to breathe. ''Um...Sam...breathing...is an important thing. I think...I'd like to do that now.''

''Oh,'' Sam pulls away from him quickly, smiling sheepishly. ''Sorry.'' Worried eyes look Wyatt up and down like he's checking him over for injuries and Wyatt has to fight to keep the smile off his face. ''Are you okay?''

''I've...'' Wyatt pauses momentarily, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. ''...I've been better. But it's nice that you remember me. So far you're the first person to...'' He trails off with a sigh and it doesn't take a genius to figure out he's thinking about his parents.

''I'm sorry I ever forgot,'' Sam says softly.

Wyatt shrugs again, shifting from foot to foot. ''That's okay. You know, I think...I think Ella remembered me. Even when everyone else forgot. I think she knew who I was the whole time. I went to the house yesterday and Mom and Dad had no idea who I was but...I think Ella did.''

Sam swallows, nodding lightly. ''That...wouldn't surprise me.'' Just like if everyone else forgot about Dean, Sam would remember. (Like the time everyone - Bobby, Pastor Jim, even his own father - forgot Sam's birthday and Dean was the only one who remembered, going out of his way to make it, in his words, ''the best friggin' birthday extravaganza'' ever. At the time, sixteen year old Sam had just been impressed that his brother knew what extravaganza meant. As he got older, he began to think differently.) Drawing in a deep breath, Sam turns his head towards Samuel, still staying close to Wyatt. ''How about you? Do you remember him?''

Samuel looks at Wyatt, purses his lips thoughtfully and nods. ''I...I remember meeting him once.''

''Well, I don't remember him,'' Christian says.

''That's because you never met him,'' Sam snaps back defensively. ''But yeah, I really like how you remember him and didn't have to go through the searing agony. That's totally fair.''

Samuel tilts his head to the side. ''Well, he doesn't mean nearly as much to me as he does to you,'' he offers. ''No offense, kid.''

''Whatever,'' Wyatt mumbles flippantly. ''You don't mean much to me either.'' When Samuel gives him a look, all Wyatt does is smirk.

''Okay,'' Sam steps in between Wyatt and his step-great grandfather, intent on ending this feud before it can begin. ''If my memories have returned, that must mean Dean and Ruby's have to. So we need to - ''

_''Wyatt...''_

Everybody in the room seems to tense as the voice echoes throughout the room, practically bouncing off every wall. Wyatt's heart thuds against his ribcage and his widened, terror struck blue eyes meet Sam's. Sam goes forwards as if to grab Wyatt, but before he can, the lights flicker, a second slips through their fingers and then he's being thrown through the air and slammed against the wall. The Campbells move fast, but the ghost is faster and soon, both Gwen and Christian are being thrown into a table while Mark lands hard on the floor and Samuel hits the wall.

The door blows open and Wyatt's new friend strides in looking incredibly pissed off. In the next second, Wyatt's back hits the wall hard and a cool hand wraps around his throat. ''What did you do?'' She snarls.

''N-Nothing,'' Watt gasps out, clawing at her arm desperately.

''You did something,'' she insists stubbornly. ''You must have. They all _remember._''

On the floor, Mark makes an attempt to stand. Ghost girl turns her head sharply, bites out a firm, ''stay down'' and Mark falls back to the ground.

Sam is shouting something and fighting against the hold she has on him, but to be honest all Wyatt can really hear is the blood rushing to his ears. He struggles to breathe and kicks uselessly as she lifts him off the ground, tears of pain gathering in his eyes. ''I didn't...I didn't do anything. I swear.''

''You're lying!''

''No.'' Through the pain, Wyatt somehow manages to smirk, proving once again that he is his mother's son and time around Dean Winchester has had an irreversible effect on him. ''You just suck.''

Her grip tightens and he gasps pathetically for air he can't quite seem to get. The edges of his vision are starting to go black, Sam has resorted to begging and pleading in desperation and the tears have just begun to leak out when Wyatt hears a voice.

''Hey.''

For a second, he thinks she's killed him and now he's all dead and stuff.

Startled, the girl drops her hold on both Wyatt and Sam and whirls around with a scowl only to receive a chest full of rock salt. She disappears for the time being, wounded, angry and frustrated with this new turn of events and Wyatt looks up at his savior.

In the doorway, his father lowers his shotgun.

**end chapter three**

**

* * *

**

**AN: Phew! They remember. Now I can relax and go do the gazillion other things I have to do today. All right, so the next chapter should be up soon, but I say that word loosely. Just to warn you.**

**And...**

**BOO!**

**Happy Halloween! I hope you all have a spooktacular Halloween. And yes, that was the cheesiest thing I've ever said.**

**So, I'm curious. What are your Halloween plans? I'm a big Halloween fan (it's better than Christmas for me) but I don't have any big plans this year. I'll just be taking my little brother out trick or treating (the Sam to my Dean. I tried to get him to go as a Winchester, but he said he'd rather go as something dead) and then I'll be having a marathon of horror flicks (and The Nightmare Before Christmas because it is a classic movie that works for two holidays). I don't really have a huge, elaborate costume like I did last year but I did paint my nails to look like candy corn. But what are your plans? What are you dressing up as? Are you dressing up at all? What's your favourite Halloween movie? What's your favourite part of Halloween? Oh, what's your favourite Halloween myth? Mine is ''to some, it is considered unlucky to carve a pumpkin with a black handled knife.'' Which we all did last night. Now we're all waiting to die or something.**

**Okay! I need to stop rambling. I hope you all have a happy Halloween, eat lots of candy and get the crap scared out of you at some point.**


	4. You must remember this

_AN: Dude, I am on an update roll! Were you all beginning to think I had forgotten about this fic? Never! So, this chapter has lots of Dean/Castiel friendship and Ruby/Wyatt mommy/son cuteness and...also, lots of bashing the Campbells. _

_I feel the need to point out that I do not like the Campbells. Not even Samuel. He may be their grandfather, but he is a dick. As proved by the last episode. And I'm assuming nobody will disagree with me about Christian. I don't like Gwen either. She just..irks me. The only Campbell I had a soft spot for was Mark and that was because he never had a chance to piss me off. Oh, and DAVID PAETKAU! Yeah, I love DP. But the point here that I was trying to make is...I don't like the Campbells. Neither, for that matter, does Ruby. Or Wyatt 'cause he's smart enough to know when his mother dislikes someone, he should too._

_But enough of my rambling. Onto the chapter!_

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**Goodnight, Moon**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

* * *

_Part Four:_

_''You must remember this''_

_

* * *

_

Wyatt's pretty sure there's probably no word in the dictionary for how he feels when he sees his father standing in the doorway next to Castiel. The feeling, however, is amplified even more when he sees his mother pushing through the wall of angel and hunter, shoving them both, from the looks of it quite roughly, to the side to get to her son. ''Wyatt!'' Mom races forwards, dropping to her knees and pulling him into her arms.

He relaxes for what feels like the first time in a long time, sighing against her shoulder. She smells like vanilla and coffee and home and he almost wants to cry a little. But when she pulls away from him, bringing a hand to his face gently, he sees she's got enough tears for the both of them. ''Oh, baby, I'm so sorry.'' She wraps him up in another safe feeling hug and he squeezes his eyes shut. ''I'm so sorry I forgot you.''

When he hears her let out a choked sob, he's overwhelmed with the feeling that he needs to make her feel better. ''It's okay,'' he mumbles, even though it kind of feels like there's something stuck in his throat and his eyes hurt. ''Don't cry, Mom.''

She smiles at him like he's the best thing she's ever seen, sniffling lightly. ''Are you okay?'' She asks, looking him up and down in that same desperate way Sam had. ''Are you hurt?'' She grimaces when she catches sight of the bruise on his forehead.

''Mom, I'm fi - '' He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence because two very familiar strong arms have lifted him off the ground and pulled him against a very familiar chest. His arms automatically wrap around his father's neck and he lets out a breath he forgot he was holding. His dad puts a hand on his back and Wyatt hears him let out a shaky breath. (Winchesters _do_ cry, after all. Wyatt will have to remember that for later.) ''Dad,'' he murmurs. ''Dad...too tight.''

Dad puts him down quickly and doesn't say a word as he looks him up and down, hand falling to his shoulder. His small, brief smile says it all though and suddenly Wyatt feels incredibly humbled. That is pride in Dad's eyes and it's directed towards him. I mean, sure, Mom's been proud of him before. So has Dad for that matter. But this kind of pride...it's just different. Dad's fingers graze the bruise on Wyatt's forehead and his lips tighten. ''You good?''

Wyatt nods and smiles. ''I'm good.'' He turns and looks back towards the suddenly hesitant Sam. ''Uncle Sam kept me safe.''

Dad looks behind Wyatt towards Sam and Wyatt grins, moving over to Mom. Well, he wanted to get them in the same room together. Ideally, it would have been under better circumstances, but hey, Wyatt knows how to work with what he's got. He watches Dad and Sam come face to face, all too aware of the sudden, odd hush that has taken over the room. ''Sam,'' Dad says at last, voice soft.

Sam half smiles. ''Hey, Dean.''

Dad seems to study him for a moment before nodding and letting a hesitant smile grace his lips. But then he takes Sam's elbow and drags him away from the rest of the group. Wyatt sighs and leans closer to attempt to hear what's going on. ''Thank you, Sam,'' Dad's saying earnestly and Wyatt is suddenly realizing why this moment is supposed to be private. ''For taking care of my boy.''

Sam meets his brother's eyes. ''You know I'd never let anything happen to Wyatt or Ella, Dean.''

Dad pauses and the nods briskly before turning his attention back to Wyatt, who can't help but notice the way Dean's eyes flick to the uncharacteristically silent ('cept for Mark. It's actually entirely in character for him to be silent) Campbell party. ''Dean,'' Samuel speaks up with a tentative smile. ''Good to see you again, son.''

The corners of Dad's lips twitch and his eyes gleam with something that doesn't look at all pleasant. ''Sure.''

''You too, Mrs. Winchester,'' Samuel adds.

Wyatt's not sure if Samuel's addressing Mom like that is some form of showing respect, but if it is, the guy should really work on his tone. He says Mrs. Winchester like he's mocking her. Like she somehow doesn't deserve the last name Winchester. Well, what's he know about being a Winchester anyway? He's not a Winchester. He's a _Campbell. _Wyatt has a feeling everyone else notices the tone too because Sam sighs, Dad clenches his jaw and Mom flat out ignores him, instead opting to pull Wyatt closer. It suddenly occurs to the boy that Samuel's attitude could have to do with the fact that he _knows_ Mom doesn't like him and he doesn't like that.

''Okay,'' Dad clears his throat, hovering just a little too close to Wyatt and Mom. ''So, this chick...who votes we send her packin'?''

* * *

She's not a bad person. She's not. She's just lonely. Her dad has moved on with his life and the white light is too scary to go into because she doesn't know what will be on the other side. Her life is cold and lonely. Her dad doesn't think about her as much as he used to and she pretty much stopped peeking in on him when he re-married and had another baby. She's been alone for seven (almost eight) years and things are getting scary. Sometimes she can't remember what it was like to be real. Sometimes she can't even remember her own name.

But Wyatt...he has always been there. She has always remembered him. Even in the darkest moments when the noises get loud and the light gets bright and other ghosts flicker in and out around her, she remembers Wyatt. She knows they're meant to be together. She can feel it in her bones. She has been with Wyatt forever, she has watched him grow up, her soul has been connected to his since the moment he was born.

Do you know what she's done for that boy? Her boy? Do you know what she gave him?

She gave him _life_.

Now it's time to take it away. She has tried her best to do this the easy way, but Wyatt is far too much like his annoying mother. Well, that's fine. If he wants to do it the hardway, she can do it the hard way.

That stupid dog barks at her when she enters the home and she's tempted to float a knife into the beast's body, but she settles for locking it outside instead. The babysitter is even easier. Aggie Marquez has never been the brightest bulb on the chandelier. Her eyes widen when she catches sight of her and she opens her mouth most likely to demand a name, but cool fingers touch her forehead and she drops to the ground.

The lights in the hallway flicker and the door to Ella Winchester's nursery swings open. The ghost enters slowly and makes her way over to the crib, staring down at the infant in something akin to disgust. This is the thing that Wyatt adores? This is the thing he would die for? Scowling, she narrows her eyes at the baby sleeping soundly in the crib. ''What makes you so special?''

* * *

Emotions confuse him. It's as simple as that. Castiel has never made that fact a secret. He has also never made it a secret that Dean Winchester means something to him. Dean Winchester has always meant something. Even long before they met, Dean meant something profound. Castiel watched Dean from the moment he was born. Watched him grow, watched him hunt, watched him take care of Sam and fall in love with Ruby. He watched him die, watched every cut he made in hell until it was finally time to save him.

Castiel has alway watched Dean and Castiel has always cared for Dean. He has done things for that Winchester that nobody knows about. That's the reason Castiel is almost certain he knows precisely who this ghost is.

When Ruby asks Wyatt about the imaginary friend he had when he was three and Wyatt's eyes get big, Castiel knows he's correct in his assumptions. ''Oh yeah!'' Wyatt cries. ''I remember her! ...She was a ghost? Whoa. Freaky. What was her name again...?''

''Joy.'' It slips through Castiel's lips before he can stop it and all eyes turn to him. ''Her name was Joy Harper.'' Something pools in his gut. He realizes quickly it is guilt.

''Yeah,'' Wyatt bobs his head up and down. ''Joy. That was her name. How'd you know that?''

''Yeah, Cas,'' Dean echoes, looking at him oddly. ''How did you know that?''

''All I want to know is why the hell is she doing this to my son?'' Ruby bites out impatiently. ''Why him? Why my son?''

Castiel can't quite keep the truth from spilling out. ''Because she died for him.''

Ruby stills. Dean reaches for Wyatt. ''What?'' Ruby eventually chokes out. ''No.'' She makes what looks like an attempt to laugh the situation off, but it clearly doesn't work. ''I would remember...I would know if a little girl died for my son. I would - ''

''Childbirth is an unpredictable thing, Ruby.'' Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel notices the way Dean looks like he suddenly can't breathe. ''The day Wyatt was born, there were supposed to be complications during delivery. Fate said he was supposed to die inside of you. Fate said you were _both _supposed to die.'' It's blunt, but that shouldn't be surprising to anyone.

Ruby looks horrified and her eyes glimmer and it's...bewildering how much Castiel dislikes seeing her cry. Wyatt and Sam are both pale, the Campbells are looking at him like he's a monster (yeah, he...doesn't really care about that one) but the only reaction Castiel really cares about is Dean's. So far there isn't one. Other than an incredibly visible flinch (his whole body jerks and Castiel resists asking if he's having a seizure) at the knowledge his wife and son were supposed to die, he's blank. His eyes are cast downwards and his body is tense. Castiel thinks that might sting more than proper reaction could.

''No.'' It's Ruby who voices her opinion. ''No, you're lying.''

''I'm not. You know I'm not. I know what you saw that day. You saw a Reaper, Ruby. It was there the night Wyatt was born. It was there in that hospital for you and your son. But I saw. I saw what you would mean. Dean,'' Castiel shifts his gaze to his former charger and Dean lifts his eyes. ''I saw what she would mean to you. I saw how she would change you, make you better, give you love. I saw how she would fix everything broken inside of you - '' this is where Dean's eyes briefly slide to Ruby and she meets his eyes for a fraction of a second before focusing on her son. '' - How they both would. I couldn't just let them die...''

''Where does Joy come into all of this?'' Samuel pipes up gruffly, rudely interrupting Castiel's near plea for understanding.

''An eye for an eye,'' Sam mutters, eyes on the ground. ''A life for a life. Am I right?''

''Oh my god,'' Ruby whispers, turning horror struck eyes back to Castiel. ''You...'' She trails off like she can't physically say the words.

Eventually, Castiel clears his throat. ''At the same time Wyatt was born, Cecelia Harper was driving her daughter Joy home from a friend's house. Cecelia lost control of the car. Both died.''

Ruby is shaking her head and looks like she's about to be sick, Sam can't look at him, Wyatt's clutching tightly to Dean's hand and Dean...

''You made sure someone else died so that Ruby and Wyatt wouldn't have to?'' He asks quietly.

''I did it for _you_,'' Castiel says softly. Ruby sits down slowly on a rickety old chair, reaching forwards to bring Wyatt to her, clinging to him like he's all that's holding her together. And Dean won't look at him. ''I didn't kill them,'' he says firmly. ''Death chose to take them instead. That is not my fault. I didn't make that choice. Two people had to die that day and if it wasn't going to be you, it was going to be someone else.''

''But she was just a little girl!'' Ruby cries out, glaring up at him. ''Don't you care?''

Castiel hesitates, looks at Dean and then tilts his head to the side. ''It's not my place to care.''

''You can't just mess with people's lives like this! You're not God!''

''Ruby, stop it!'' Dean's voice easily overpowers her as he steps in between his wife and angel, staring down at Ruby with a careful frown. ''Look,'' he says tensely, muscles in his jaw twitching. ''I get it. You're a mom. You feel sorry for this kid. Maybe you feel guilty. That's - Hey, I can't tell you how to feel. But don't for a second pretend you wouldn't have done the exact same thing. Given the choice between your son and a random stranger, who would you choose?''

Her glare falters and she looks away. ''Dean...''

''I'm sorry, Ruby. But the truth is I would set the whole world on fire if it meant saving Wyatt. You would too.''

''I don't want to talk about this anymore,'' a small voice says meekly. Everyone shifts their attention to Wyatt, who is looking down at the ground uncomfortably. He looks more like a kid than he did ten minutes ago, kicking at something imaginary on the ground. ''I don't want to talk about the past or what Cas did or even who Joy was because that's not who she is now. Even when she was my friend, she was different. She's mean now, okay? She's mean and she scares me and I just...I just want her to go away.'' He turns pleading eyes to his father and uncle, fingers clutching desperately at his mother's shirt. ''Can't you just make her go away?''

* * *

Wyatt's not exactly sure how this ghost thing works, but when Samuel digs up the info that Joy Harper was cremated, Dad and Sam look like someone has kicked their puppy.

''I don't understand why she's doing this,'' Mom's saying. ''If she wants revenge, why now? Why has she just started acting out now? Why not when Wyatt was vulnerable? When he was a baby? And why is he the only one being haunted? Two people died that day. Shouldn't her mother be haunting me?''

''Her mother probably crossed over,'' Sam says patiently.

''Then why didn't she?''

''Some people get lost, Ruby,'' Castiel explains calmly. ''Some people can't find the light or it can't find them. She probably got confused or scared and turned away from the light.''

''Well, then can't we just help her find it?''

''Hey, you know who we need? Jennifer Love Hewitt.''

Wyatt can't keep his laugh in and winds up coughing to cover it up. While Mom sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose and Sam drops his head into his hands, Castiel is the only one to address Dad's lame joke with a carefully measured, ''I don't know what that means.''

Dad rolls his eyes. ''Nevermind. Ruby, this girl is obsessed with Wyatt. She's not going willingly.''

Wyatt opens his mouth to speak, but his mother beats him to it, pointing out to the others that, ''her name is Joy.''

''Look,'' Sam's voice is soft and placating as he looks in between the three. He sends a glance over his shoulder at Wyatt and Wyatt looks away quickly to pretend he hasn't been spying. ''She's not going to stay gone forever. We need to get Wyatt out of here before she comes back.''

As soon as Christian Campbell shoves himself into the group with a smirk on his face, Wyatt has a pretty good idea he knows what's going to come out of the man's mouth. ''I've got a better idea.''

Dad looks at him, blinks and crosses his arms. ''I _highly_ doubt that.''

Wyatt lets out a snort and pretends he doesn't notice when everyone looks at him for a second.

''This girl - ''

''Joy,'' Mom cuts in.

'' - She wants Wyatt, right?''

Dad tenses like he looks like he wants to say 'I haven't even heard your plan and already it's stupid and you're stupid by association.'

Christian's grinning like the cat that got the canary and Wyatt's wondering why Sam puts up with him. ''Then why don't we give him to her?''

There's a beat of silence in which Wyatt's jaw drops and he stares open mouthed, praying his parents tell Christian to suck it. That is not a plan he wants to go along with. Luckily for him, he is not the only one who thinks Christian is an idiot. The next thing he knows, he is watching Dad drag Mom away from Christian, who is cradling his cheek. Sam is shaking his head and sighing like he can't believe he's been putting up with this guy for a year, Castiel's looking at the man like he's scum, although that's nothing really new because Cas kind of looks at a lot of people like that. Even Samuel and Mark look a little embarrassed at the fact that they're related to this dude. (Gwen's too busy looking extremely apprehensive of Mom to have a reaction to Christian's ''better idea.'')

''Are you crazy?'' Mom screeches wildly, fighting against Dad's hold on her. ''You want to use my son as _bait_? After everything he's been through?''

''That's your brilliant idea?'' Dad sneers visciously. ''Using him as bait? Are you a moron?''

''It's the best option and you know it,'' Christian argues defensively.

''It's _not_ the best option,'' Dad bites back. ''Using someone as bait is always unnecessarily risky and I will not do that to my son, do you understand me? I won't put him in that kind of danger - ''

''He's already in danger! If we don't - ''

''No!''

Wyatt literally jumps at the venom in his father's voice. That is a tone of voice he has never heard before. He can tell the rest of the room is shocked too. Even Sam looks a little stunned, albeit not nearly as stunned as Christian.

''We are not using my son like that. End of discussion.''

''Whoa,'' Sam steps in between Dad and Christian, anxiously pushing them away from each other. ''Let's just calm - ''

''_Your_ son?'' Christian laughs loudly and even Wyatt (the seven year old) can tell he's quite miffed at being talked down to. This is clearly his way of licking his wounds. It doesn't help that _Bitch_ seems to be his default setting. It really shouldn't surprise anyone that he decides to be petty and mean, throwing an unnecessary and cutting remark back in Dad's face. ''Don't you mean your stepson? I mean...it's not like he's actually _yours_, is he?''

...Dad is not nearly as hesitant as Mom was. There is no moment of silence where he weighs his options between violence and choking it down. Dad just lunges. There's a flurry of commotion and yelps and Wyatt can't decide if he should be feeling amused, angry or terrified. He distances himself from the fight and waits impatiently for them to stop. About five seconds after a sigh leaves his lips, he hears a whisper float through the air.

_''Wyatt...''_

His tenses and he tries his hardest to breathe through the suffocating fear that hits him. He knows that voice. It's her. It's her, she's back! He opens his mouth to scream for someone to help him, but no words come out.

_''Wyatt...''_

Even though he's terrified of what's happening, his body moves and he can't stop himself. He doesn't want to. He wants to scream for Mom and Dad to help him, but for some reason he can't. He drifts towards the sound of the voice, screaming on the inside and terror flows through him.

_''Wyatt...''_

_

* * *

_

Somewhere in between Dean launching himself off Christian and Sam and Castiel pulling him off the increasingly bloodied man on the ground, someone notices the boy is moving away from them. ''Uh, guys...'' He goes ignored by everyone and the boy keeps moving. In the end, it's Ruby who snaps her attention to Mark Campbell mere seconds before he yells out, ''Hey!'' When everyone looks at him, he nods towards Wyatt.

Ruby whirls around and her heart stops in her chest because the way he's moving isn't right. ''Wyatt...'' She goes forwards, reaching out to grasp her son's arm. ''Baby, what are you doing?''

He seems to turn his head towards her with a great deal of difficulty and the pure fear in his eyes makes her panic. There are frightened tears welling in his eyes and her grip on him tightens. ''Mom...'' He meets her eyes, a second passes and then before she even has a chance to react, he's being cruelly ripped away from her and pulled screaming through the door by something she can't see while she is thrown into her husband, all in the span of about two and a half seconds.

In the minute it takes Dean to pull both himself and Ruby to their feet and kick the door down with an army behind him, Wyatt disappears into thin air and they're left back at square one with a whole new level of panic and _without _their son.

* * *

Wyatt slowly blinks his eyes open to darkness and odd shaped shadows on the wall. For the briefest moment, he thinks maybe this whole thing has been a really horrible, really vivid nightmare. But then he hears her voice and everything comes rushing back. ''Hi, Wyatt. I'm glad you're awake.''

He bolts upright, regrets it and then pushes all the pain away to spin around. Panic so intense it makes him dizzy hits him like a punch in the gut when he sees her. Joy (her name is totally ironic, by the way) is sitting in a very familiar rocking chair in a very familiar room, holding onto _his sister _with a smile on her face. ''Ella,'' he chokes out. The baby wriggles.

''Wyatt,'' Joy says calmly. ''I didn't want it to go this way.''

''No,'' his voice trembles as he staggers towards her. Any earlier fear cannot compare to this. Not even close. ''No, not her. She doesn't have anything to do with this!''

''She does now,'' Joy snarls. ''If you don't do what I want, then she'll die.''

Wyatt grapples for control, the upper hand, something to hold over her head like she's holding Ella over his, but he's got nothing. All he's got is surrendering and hoping she'll leave his sister alone if he does what she wants. ''What do you want me to do?'' He asks quietly, desperately trying not to stare in horror and appear calm instead.

Joy smiles and rises to her feet. ''I want you to die.''

He swallows.

She says it so plainly it's almost as if she's just asking him to do something as simple as her laundry rather than something completely and totally _life ending._ She shrugs, shifting Ella onto her hip easily. ''Then we can be together. Forever. I didn't want to have to do it this way, but you weren't listening.'' She shakes her head. ''But Ella...I knew she would make you listen. You may not have his blood, Wyatt, but you're a lot like your dad. Which means your biggest weakness would be your sister. Now you can see. You can see we're meant to be together.''

''Why are you doing this?'' He asks bravely.

''I _died_ for you, Wyatt,'' she hisses, stepping forwards in a jerky movement. His eyes stray to Ella. ''I died the same time you were born. That makes us connected in ways you can't even imagine.''

He tries not to look at Ella, tries to keep his anxiety at bay. But there is a ghost holding onto his sister and threatening to kill her and he can't lose Ella. This is a very anxious time. ''What happened to your mom?'' He blurts out without thinking. When he replays the question in his head, he internally winces and prays the question doesn't push her over the edge.

Joy goes still and the sneer drops off her face. ''My...'' She frowns like she's trying her best to remember something she just can't quite reach. ''My mom?''

''Yeah.'' He takes a slow, hesitant step forwards. ''She...She died with you, Joy. In the accident. What happened to her? Did she go into the light?''

''I...'' She swallows thickly, glances down at the ground and then nods. ''...Yeah.''

''Why didn't you go with her?''

Joy shrugs, looking uncomfortable.

Wyatt thinks his plan might be working. He takes another step forwards. ''Did you lose her?'' He asks softly. ''Cas says some people get lost or confused. Did you get lost? Because if you did, I'm sure your mom was real worried about you. She probably still is. You're her daughter. I...I could help you find her. If you want.''

She shakes her head, but he can see the way her lips are trembling. It's kind of shocking...but he thinks he might actually be getting through to her. ''I want to stay with you,'' she whispers shakily.

He takes advantage of her current weakened state and takes a huge risk, taking the last step forwards and carefully lifting Ella out of Joy's arms. For her part, Joy doesn't lash out at him like he thought she would. Her eyes follow his every move, but she doesn't do a thing. He thinks he might even hear her sniffle. Ella grasps his shirt and buries her face in the crook of his neck. And Wyatt can breathe again. ''Joy,'' he says slowly. ''Are you afraid of the light?''

She's not looking at him when she rasps out, ''No'' and he gets the feeling she's lying.

''You are, aren't you?'' He insists, gently placing Ella back in her crib just in case Joy decides to throw him across the room or something. ''You're afraid of what's on the other side. ...You don't have to be,'' he whispers. ''I...hear it's nice.''

Abruptly, her demeanor changes, her eyes harden and she scowls at him. ''I don't want to go to the other side,'' she snarls. Her image flickers in and out and then he's left alone. He tenses when he feels a cold hand on his shoulder and before he can even turn around, she's shoving him towards the wall. His chest hits the wall hard and he groans, sliding to the ground. ''I want to be with you!'' Her face twists into an ugly scowl and she stands in front of him, looking unnaturally intimidating standing in the glow of the moonlight. ''We're going to be together, Wyatt. Whether you like ir or not.''

The door flies open, teaching him a very important lesson. His Mom and Dad have impeccable timing. But even with his parents standing in the doorway, Dad's finger poised on the trigger, Wyatt still feels an indescribable sense of apprehension.

In the second before Dad can pull the trigger, Joy lets out a frustrated shriek and throws a hand out. Ella's crib scratches against the floor and bangs loudly against the wall. Ella lets out a wail. Wyatt's heart slams against his ribcage and he acts before he thinks, leaping in between Joy and the gun pointed at her. ''Wait!'' He screams, eyes swinging from his parents to Ella. ''Joy, don't,'' he begs. ''Don't hurt her.''

''Give me one good reason why I shouldn't.''

''Because I'll go with you!''

''No, you won't!''

''Mom,'' his voice sounds remarkably composed when he turns towards his parents, trying his best to remain calm even when he sees the horror reflected in Mom's eyes. ''I'm sorry,'' he says softly, ''but I can't let her hurt Ella.''

He only flinches when Dad's gun is torn out of his hand by an unseen force and thrown across the room and he doesn't cry out when the same unseen force shoves them both against the wall and slams Ella's crib into their bodies to keep them in place. But when Joy grins, Wyatt doesn't quite manage to keep from trembling. ''I'll go with you,'' he says strongly. ''Just leave my sister alone.''

She latches onto his arm tightly and the world around him begins to fade.

''Done.''

**end chapter four**

**

* * *

**

**AN: Woo! Only one more chapter to go! Who's excited?**


	5. And who can bear to be forgotten

_AN: Holy effing crap, it's finished. Thank the Lord above. So sorry it took so long. It gets a little draggy at the end, just to warn you. I had the hardest time ending this. Not because I didn't want to, because I have never wanted to end a story like this, but because I just couldn't figure out the right words. But I did it and here it is. So enjoy._

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

* * *

**Goodnight, Moon**

_Written by Becks Rylynn_

* * *

_Part Five:_

_''And who can bear to be forgotten''_

_

* * *

_

Sam hates waiting.

He knows Cas has some grand master plan to end all master plans or what the fuck ever, but he positively _loathes_ standing around and _waiting._ Besides, it's not like they have an unlimited amount of time to wait around here. The clock is ticking much too fast and Wyatt's time is beginning to run short. He doesn't want to wait anymore.

Glancing around the room, Sam sighs heavily and runs a hand over his tired face. The Campbell's are on one side of the room talking in low whispers and occasionally sending looks Sam does _not_ appreciate in Ruby's direction. On the other side of the room, Ruby is pale and terrified looking as she tries to calm down an increasingly hysterical Aggie who does not understand anything that's happening. And Sam is the odd man out. Again. Seems to be becoming a pattern.

He rubs his temples, swallowing back a yawn and when he lifts his eyes again, he catches sight of the front door closing with a quiet click. He stiffens, stands straight and frowns. When his eyes slide to Ruby, she looks at him silently for a moment before giving him the briefest, shakiest thing that could pass for a smile and nodding her head towards the door.

He moves towards the door.

Samuel's questioning eyes follow him, but Sam brushes it off.

He hesitates briefly, gripping the doorknob. A wince flickers across his lips when he remembers the last time he walked out this door. The cold October air is the first thing that hits him when he steps outside. The second is the quiet fusses of the baby in his brother's arms, bundled in blankets and warm clothing. The last thing to hit him is what hits him the hardest. Dean looks crushed beyond belief. He looks frustrated, guilt ridden, scared, fueled by sadness and impossibly tired. It scares Sam because...well, because Dean is Dean and Sam still sees him through the eyes of an eight year old boy whose big brother was invincible and who didn't know what a_ Mom _was, but who knew what a _Dean_ was.

But this Dean is...defeated.

It reminds him of Lucifer and Michael and all of the things he tries so hard not to remember.

Dean is quietly shushing Ella, gently bouncing the baby in an attempt to soothe her.

Sam doesn't say anything, but he gets the feeling Dean knows he's there. He takes a breath and then tentatively takes a seat next to Dean. They don't say anything and Ella continues to fuss. After awhile, Sam finally decides one of them better say something before they both die of old age.

Dean beats him to it. ''Do you think,'' he starts quietly, ''if I hadn't come back - ''

''Don't,'' Sam cuts him off abruptly, swinging his gaze to his brother, mouth drawn into a frown. ''Don't do that, Dean. This had nothing to do with you.''

''I just...I thought I could find it, you know?''

''Find what?''

Dean meets Sam's eyes for the first time in months and Sam has to swallow. ''...Normal. I thought I could have that with her. But the truth is, normal...that's never going to be in the cards for me, is it? I mean, hunting and monsters and...and_ you_...it's in my blood. I can't walk away from that and they can't walk with me.''

Sam doesn't say anything for a moment that might be a little too long. ''Dean,'' he finally says thoughtfully. ''Did you hear what Cas said? The reason Ruby and Wyatt are alive is because he saw how they would _save_ you from...everything. _You _are the reason they're still here. You saved their lives. And yeah, maybe this is an unfortunate consequence but in the end, she is just one ghost. They're here because of what they mean to you and what you mean to the world. Someday, you'll learn that half of the things you think are your fault..._aren't_. You need to stop punishing yourself, Dean. I want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted.''

Dean blinks, stares and then, much to Sam's surprise, he smirks and lets out a snort of laughter. ''God, Sammy,'' he mutters. ''Don't be such a girl.''

There's a moment of stunned silence on Sam's part while Dean chuckles. Sam's not sure if it's because Dean has just let him in or because Dean has just called him Sammy again, but either way the shock passes quickly and he can't help but let out a small laugh. Ella seems to have calmed down, busying herself with trying to burrow herself inside her father's jacket and playing with a button on said jacket. Sam looks at his niece without even attempting to hide the adoring (and slightly longing) look in his eyes. He used to want this. What Dean has now. A wife, a house, a job, _kids_, normal. Now everything has changed. So much. He has changed so much. He's not sure if he could have normal even if he wanted it. ''She's gotten big,'' he comments, breaking the silence and nodding to Ella.

''It's been awhile since you saw her,'' Dean points out. Something about his tone is almost accusing and Sam has to bite back a bitter retort because, _really_ Dean? It's not like he kicked himself out.

''Is she crawling?'' He asks instead.

Dean nods and looks over at his brother briefly. Sam searches for that proud father look in Dean's eyes and can't find it. There's something familiar, a spark Sam can't quite put his finger on. He knows it from somewhere. And then he remembers a few years ago when Dean was telling Ruby all about when Sam was little and he remembers this same look in his brother's eyes. He remembers when he told Dean he got into Stanford. For just a brief second before he closed himself off and got all huffy, Dean's eyes lit up. This..._is _his proud father look. It's just something Sam's been seeing his whole life. Sam clears his throat and wills himself not to smile.

''She crawls,'' Dean's saying. ''She's just...She's a very cautious baby. Kinda paranoid.''

''I wonder where she got that from,'' Sam mutters.

''Shut up, I'm not paranoid.''

''You have your moments. I'll bet the first time she crawled, you walked behind her the whole time.''

''She could have stuck her finger in an outlet or something! Babies aren't very bright, you know.''

''That's why you have outlet covers.''

''I...well...oh, whatever.'' Dean looks down at Ella, who is currently peering up at him with those big eyes of hers. ''Yes, I know, doll. You're a genius.''

Sam laughs again and shakes his head. ''You're such a dork sometimes.''

''Yeah, well, at least I don't have a girl's name, Samantha.''

''You were named after our_ grandmother_!''

''I knew I shouldn't have told you that.''

For a minute, it's almost like nothing's changed. It's just like they're Sam and Dean again and none of the badness has happened. It's almost like Dean didn't kick Sam out when he chose the Campbells over real family and Sam never threw the first punch after Dean compared him to their father. Dean sobers first, smile dimming slightly as he throws a sidelong glance at Sam. ''Sam,'' he offers quietly. ''Listen...about that night...It shouldn't have gone like that.''

Sam tenses and swallows. ''No, it shouldn't have.''

Dean is silent for a moment, attention focused back on his daughter. Sam lets a sigh slip through his lips and turns his eyes up to the stars sparkling in the sky. ''Sam,'' Dean takes the first step, looking at Sam with those ever searching eyes of his. ''You should know that I'm - ''

The door opens and Ruby steps outside. Sam would like to be annoyed with her for interrupting the first time alone with his brother he's had in months, but she still looks shaky with fear and pale in the soft glow of the porch light. ''Cas is ready,'' she says quietly. ''Can we go get my son back now? Also, can we get these people _out_ of my house?''

* * *

In the dark of night, as wind blows through the trees and seems to sigh mournfully in the quiet night, Wyatt shrinks back against the cold slab of concrete, heart hammering nervously in his chest. He swallows down the mind numbing fear and tries not to think about the fact that it's a gravestone he's leaning against or the fact that he is currently being held hostage in a bone yard while he chats up a dead chick who has previously _erased his entire existence _and would now like him to die so he can be with her forever.

His fingers are curled around the small glass vile he's been given and he has no idea what it is, but he's fairly certain it can't be good. He scrambles to his feet, avoiding her piercing eyes. ''What is this?'' He asks hesitantly, willing his voice not to tremble.

Joy smiles and shrugs carelessly. ''Just a little something that will stop your heart instantly.''

Of _course _it is. Because what else would it be?

He works hard not to cringe, gulping and looking down at the vile in terror. Holy crap, he's really going to die, isn't he? ''Wait.'' His voice comes out hoarse and raspy, but still strong and he chokes back all the fear and tries to look fearless instead. ''Before I do this, I need to know something.''

Joy crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently, lips pinched together. ''What?''

''I need you to promise me that you won't ever touch my sister again. I don't care if we'll be ghosts or if we'll be tethered together for all of eternity or whatever your master plan is. If you touch her again, I'll leave you and you'll never see me again. I'll go haunt some creepy old house. Rattle some chains. Scare some locals.''

She throws her head back and laughs at the sky. ''I don't think you're in any position to be threatening me, Wyatt.''

He silences for a second, looking down at the liquid inside of the vile. He's sure Mom and Dad have to be looking for him right now. If he stalls her long enough, maybe he can actually get through this night in one piece. ''Oh, I think I am,'' he says confidently. ''You don't scare me, Joy. You love me. And right now, I'm the one who has this.'' He waggles the vile in front of her face and turns away from her carelessly. ''I mean, what's your plan? You can kill me sure, but I'm never going to love you like you love me. I'm only going to hate you for taking me away from my family.''

''You'll learn to love me,'' she says strongly. ''It might take awhile. It might take years, but sooner or later, you'll love me.''

''See, I don't think I will. I can _never _love you, Joy. Not after everything you've done. You made my family forget me. You choked me. You threatened my _sister_. This isn't going to work out. I think we should break up.''

She seems stricken for a moment before recovering with a nasty smirk. ''If you don't kill yourself, you know what I'll do.''

''What will you do?''

''I'll kill your father and your uncle and your sister and then I'll torture your mother until she can't even scream and it will be all your fault.''

He pales dramatically at the images that flash through his head, but keeps his careless smirk firmly planted on his lips. ''And if you do that, you will never get me.''

She glares at him, her nose scrunched up in disgust. ''Fine, whatever,'' she mumbles flippantly. ''I promise I won't go near them if you just drink it. I never realized you talked so much.''

Wyatt almost sighs because honestly, he was hoping he could keep up the charade for a little longer. He clears his throat and looks at the vile nervously.

''Well,'' Joy demands. ''Are you going to drink it or not?''

He hesitates. ''You know, Joy,'' he starts, softening his tone. ''You haven't actually _hurt_ anyone yet. At least not seriously. You could make this right. You could find your mother. Go with her. You don't need me. You're a good person, Joy. You just have to - ''

''Really?'' She scoffs. ''This is your pitch? I have to say, I'm quite disappointed in you.''

''Well, think about it this way,'' Wyatt shrugs. ''If you force me to drink this, you technically commit murder. And if I die then my dad will go insane. I mean, he will literally go _insane_. He'll want revenge and when he finally gets a hold of you, he'll kill you in the most painfully slow way possible. I've seen him when he's sad and grieving. It's not pretty, Joy. It won't be good for you. He'll find your bones, dig them up and burn them one by one and eventually, you'll be forced to spend eternity in, like, Hell or something. But as of right now, you have a chance to avoid that nastiness. You could give up and go elsewhere. I don't really care if you move on, just leave me alone. I'm trying to help you here, Joy. And that's just my dad. You don't even want to know what my mom will do to you. Talk about scary.'' He laughs nervously, taking a step backwards when she moves forwards.

''That's a nice try,'' she cackles, perching herself atop a tombstone. ''Very convincing. But I know I was cremated. There are no bones to burn.''

Oh. Drats. He was kind of counting on her not knowing that her ashes were currently probably residing on her father's mantle. This is an unfortunate twist. ''Well, so? There are lots of other ways to kill a ghost,'' he says smoothly even though he has no idea what he's talking about. ''Ways that hurt. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot.'' He hopes he sounds confident, but he's really starting to flounder here. He has no idea how he's going to keep stalling; he just knows he doesn't want to die. He's not even eight yet! He's not ready to go. ''I see this as being a lose/lose situation, Joy. If I die, my parents will make sure you go through more pain than you can imagine. If I don't die...while you might kill everyone I love, you'd only wind up hurting yourself because I'd never go to you if you did that. Plus, if you killed them, they'd be ghosts too and then they could kick your butt. Literally. Any way you slice it, you're the one who will get screwed here. I'm not really seeing a super endgame for you here. This really sucks for you.''

''Kid's got a point.''

A gun cocks, Wyatt drops to the ground, a shot goes off and Joy disappears. Wyatt takes advantage of her momentary disappearance and fumbles with the vile, twisting the cap off and dumping the contents. Safe, warm hands pull him back and he clings to his mother's shirt desperately. Behind her, Dad and Sam keep the guns raised and ready to fire. ''This isn't going to hold her off for long,'' Dad warns. ''Where the hell is Cas?''

''He said he'd be here,'' Sam says evenly, eyeing the trees lining the graveyard nervously.

''Stupid unreliable angel!''

''We need to get Wyatt out of here before she comes back,'' Mom says, holding tightly to Wyatt's hand.

''No!'' Wyatt protests, wrenching free of her grip. ''We can't! If I leave, she'll go after everyone I care about! Starting with Ella. I can't let that happen, Mom!'' His eyes briefly flick to his father, who, for some reason, looks like he's been slapped. Looking away from Mom, even for a second, turns out to be a mistake because when he looks back at her she's got an odd look on her face and her hands are moving to her throat. She looks away from him, probably to hide the pain in her eyes and she begins to choke, like she's being strangled. Her desperate wheezes for air get her nowhere and Wyatt reaches for her as she claws at her throat. ''Mom!''

Dad rushes towards his wife, grasping her shoulders. Wyatt can't see her eyes in the dark, but he thinks they must be filled with fear and his heart is beating so fast he's scared it'll just stop. ''Ruby!'' Dad's voice is sharp and hiding something that sounds almost like terror. She keeps choking and gasping and when Sam reaches forwards to pull Wyatt away, he shakes off his arm and looks around desperately. Mom goes to the ground, still unable to breathe and Dad goes with her.

''Joy, wait!'' Wyatt screams out, whirling around in search of her. ''Please stop this! You're not a bad person, I know you're not. Just let my mom go!''

''That's where you're wrong, Wyatt,'' Joy says from behind him. ''I'm not a good person.''

He turns to look at her with wide eyes and his breath floats in the air like tiny gray wisps of smoke. Hers doesn't. There are frustrated tears glistening in her eyes that shine in the moonlight and he thinks, with fear, that he might have pushed her over the edge. Now she's snapping like a dry, brittle twig and she's going to _kill his mother._ ''If you don't want me, I'll take her instead!'' She screams through gulping, angry sobs. It's the first time she's acted like a scared, lonely child instead of some cunning, evil spirit. ''I'll take her away from you and she can be _my_ mom!''

''No!'' Wyatt lunges forwards, dodging Dad and Sam's hands reaching for him. ''You can't take her! You can't take my mom!''

''Then come with me,'' she pleads. ''Tell me you love me, Wyatt!''

''I...'' He swallows and can't quite manage to force the words out. He's seven. He doesn't even know what love means yet. ''Joy, I - ''

''Joy!''

Wyatt watches as shock replaces the frightening desperation that has taken over the girl's face. Her grip on Mom loosens until she can breathe again and when Wyatt looks at Mom, she's gasping and air seems to be reaching her lungs once again. Joy slowly turns around to face the newcomer standing beside Cas with big eyes. When she speaks, her voice sounds weak and shaky and she...doesn't sound all that scary anymore. ''Mom?'' She whispers out, looking the woman up and down.

Cecelia Harper. It must be Cecelia Harper. Joy's mom. Cecelia Harper is a pretty young woman with hazel eyes and dark, dark hair. She looks a lot like Joy. What strikes Wyatt is, despite their physical differences, something about Cecelia reminds Wyatt of his own mother. There's something in the way she holds herself. In the way she's standing there, looking at Joy with complete and utter devotion in her eyes. He stumbles backwards, right into Dad and can't take his eyes off of Joy's mother.

''Joy,'' Cecelia whispers, her hands flying to her mouth. ''I found you.''

Wyatt tears his eyes away from Cecelia, looks at Joy for a second and then decides to focus his attention on Mom.

''Mom,'' Joy whimpers, going backwards. ''What are you...Why are you here?''

''What are you doing, Joy?'' Cecelia asks softly. ''Why are you doing this? Why are you hurting this family? This boy? You're better than that.''

''You wouldn't understand,'' Joy scowls, sticking her nose up in the air. ''You don't know me anymore. You went away. You went into the light and left me here all alone!''

''I thought you were right behind me,'' Cecelia all but wails, ghostly tears running down her cheeks.

Joy rolls her eyes and though she's obviously trying to look unaffected by her mother's appearance, she's clearly rattled. ''You always were a little stupid,'' Joy spits out cruelly. ''Guess that's what you get for getting pregnant so young.''

Mom makes an offended noise in the back of her throat at that.

The weak insult bounces right off of her mother and Cecelia takes another step towards her bitter daughter. ''You'd be seventeen in a few days, you know,'' she murmurs wistfully. ''If we had lived...you'd be turning seventeen in two weeks.'' She lets out a choked laugh. ''You would've been a gorgeous woman. But you're always going to be my beautiful little girl. I want you to know that.''

Joy sucks in a breath and closes her eyes. ''Go away. Nobody wants you here.''

''Joy, you know these people don't deserve what you're doing to them.''

Joy's eyes darken and every last ounce of her attention swivels to her mother. Wyatt lets out a breath. ''They don't?'' Joy cackles madly, taking a step towards her mother. ''We_ died _for them,'' she screams. ''I died for that boy. You died for _her_,'' she waves towards Mom. ''We should be able to do whatever we want with them. We gave them life. Don't you see that?''

Cecelia's eyes linger on Mom and Wyatt's not sure if it's his imagination or what, but he thinks he might see their eyes meet briefly. Cecelia's lips turn downwards into a frown and Wyatt catches sight of a flash of something that almost looks like bitterness in her eyes before she tears her eyes away from Mom and looks at her daughter. ''The past is in the past, baby,'' she says firmly. ''We can't change that.''

''Yeah, whatever. We're dead,'' Joy snipes. ''I don't care. I just want Wyatt to be with me forever. I love him.''

Cecelia sighs patiently. ''You don't love him, Joy. You're nine.''

''Seventeen.''

''Whole other can of worms,'' Cecelia mutters flatly. ''Listen, I understand why you think you're in love with him.''

''Don't patronize me.''

''He's been your only friend for so long. But you _don't_ love him.''

''You can't tell me how to feel, Mother!''

Cecelia looks a little shaken by the pure rage in her daughter. ''You know, Joy, you used to be such a sweet little girl. You just...You had this beautiful heart of gold. You had a smile for everyone you met and you always, _always_ tried to see the best in people.'' At the sound of her mother's tearful words, Joy starts trembling and she moves closer to Wyatt, almost like she wants him to protect her from the emotions she's feeling. ''Your father and I were so young when we had you,'' Cecelia continues, maintaining eye contact with her daughter as she moves forwards. ''And things got so hard sometimes. But when I looked at you...when I looked at you, it was all worth it. It didn't matter how difficult things got with money or with your dad or just...life in general. You were worth it. You _are_ worth it. You made things better just by smiling. What happened to that girl?''

''Uh, she died,'' Joy sneers. ''Duh. Where have you been?''

Cecelia swallows and nods in defeat. ''Joy,'' she says strongly. ''You're my little girl and I'd do anything for you. But if you keep hurting this family, I_ will _stop you.''

The confidence in her mother's eyes seems to startle Joy for about half a second before that ever present snotty little brat sneer takes over. ''What are you gonna do, Mom? Ground me?''

Cecelia flinches. ''You and I...We used to be best friends. Can't we go back? Can't we go back to that?''

(Don't think Wyatt misses the way Dad and Sam look at each other for a fraction of a second.)

''I promise you'll be happier. I've spent so long searching for you, baby. I'm not giving up on you now. Can you just...come with me?'' She holds out her hand towards her daughter with a watery smile. ''We can be happy.''

It might be a stupid thing to do, but there's a moment there where Wyatt actually thinks Joy might take her mother's hand and then they'll both skip off into the great beyond or whatever. She looks at her mother's hand for a long time and Wyatt mistakenly thinks she might do something right for a change. But then he sees the anger in her eyes and the ghostly energy crackling on her fingertips and they're all screwed. ''No,'' Joy says and then all hell breaks loose. It happens fast. Joy throws her hands out and two white hot bursts of energy go blasting towards Mom and Dad. Unfortunately, Joy doesn't count on Castiel and Sam.

Easily, Castiel pulls Mom out of the way and Sam pushes Dad out of the energy's path, taking the blast himself. Wyatt looks away from Joy and towards his parents for a second. Just a second. It proves to be a deadly mistake because when he looks back, she's inches away from his face and her hand is shooting out and wrapping around his neck before he can even scream. Someone yells his name, but he's too busy trying to breathe to listen. Her vice like grip is this close to crushing his windpipe when she gets this funny little look on her face and her eyes widen in either shock or pain.

Wyatt drops to the ground, coughing and spluttering for air. Joy looks down at the hand latched onto her wrist and then up to her mother's carefully blank face. Real fear skitters across Joy's previously rage darkened eyes and in the next second, both mother and daughter have disappeared in an explosive burst of white light that Wyatt has to shield his eyes from. When it dies down, he looks around the lonely graveyard, half expecting Joy to come back and finish the job. ''Wh-What just happened?'' He finally manages to breathe out. ''Did she kill her?''

''No,'' Castiel says calmly, offering the boy a hand. ''She just took her away.''

Wyatt frowns and takes Castiel's hand, letting the angel pull him to his feet. ''Took her away where?''

''Somewhere where she won't be able to get to you ever again.''

Wyatt wants to ask more questions, but in the end he only nods and takes a breath of fresh air. When he glances behind Castiel, he catches sight of his mother pulling herself to her feet and his eyes light up. ''Mom!'' Relief drums through his veins and he races towards her, throwing his arms around her waist and squeezing his eyes shut. ''Can we go home now?'' He asks shakily, suddenly feeling the adrenaline wear off, replaced by exhaustion and the incredibly unpleasant feeling that his bruises have bruises of their own.

''Yes,'' she whispers. ''We can go home now.''

''Uh..._hey_!'' All eyes go to Dad, whose eyes are still wild and panicked as he pushes himself to his feet and gestures madly towards Sam's prone form. ''Does nobody see the injured Winchester here? Cas!'' He stomps forwards and grabs Castiel by the collar. ''Do something miraculous! Just fix him!''

''Dean,'' Castiel murmurs slowly. ''He's just unconscious. He's going to be fine.'' As if on cue, Sam stirs and a groan slips through his mouth as he sluggishly brings a hand to his head and whispers his brother's name.

Dad pauses, blinks and then lets go of Cas and steps back. ''Oh.''

Castiel frowns and smoothes down his trench coat. Wyatt thinks the guy might care a little too much for his coat. It's like Dad and his car.

Somebody clears their throat behind them and Wyatt holds his breath, clutching his mother desperately. It's Joy. She's back. But then he turns around and the image that flickers in and out is not Joy, but Cecelia. She looks apologetic and regretful as she looks at the Winchester family in front of her. Mom holds Wyatt so tight he almost grimaces. ''I'm sorry,'' Cecelia apologizes. ''I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to apologize for my daughter's involvement. She won't be bothering you again. I'm not going to let her out of my sight ever again.'' She looks at Mom for a second, meets her eyes and then she's gone without another word.

There's a moment of tense silence and then Wyatt speaks. ''So...home now?''

* * *

Cecelia Harper always tried to do her best for her daughter when they were alive. Joy always had clothes and food and a roof over her head and plenty of love no matter what. Cecelia made sure of that. She also made sure that bad behavior was not just _shook off._ Just because she's dead doesn't mean any of that needs to change.

She enters the dark, dank and dirty room and looks at the pouting child behind the bars. The heavy door slams shut behind her and Cecelia fights the urge to wince. Instead, she swallows hard and tries to act unfazed.

Joy sneers at her through the prison like bars. ''You can't keep me in here forever. Sooner or later, I'll get out and the first thing I'm going to do is kill Wyatt _and_ his mother. Then I'll kill that little baby that means _so much _to Wyatt and I'll make you watch. Then you'll see I'm not that little girl anymore.''

''Actually,'' Cecelia takes a seat on the dirty floor, leans back against the equally dirty wall and flicks an imaginary piece of lint off of her outdated jeans. ''You're wrong about that, baby. You're never getting out of here. Neither of us ever will.''

''What are you - ''

''Just because we're dead doesn't mean there aren't rules to be followed, Joy,'' Cecelia explains patiently. ''And you broke them. You're being punished.''

Joy silences for a moment, fingers wrapping around the bars as she looks around her eternal prison. ''So, what? Is this Hell or something?''

''Not Hell,'' Cecelia corrects. ''It's something else.''

''Why are you here then? You didn't break the rules.''

''I'm your _mother._ I'm not going to let you spend eternity alone.''

Joy pales. ''Eternity?'' She questions weakly.

Cecelia sighs heavily. ''I'm sorry, baby. I really am. But you messed up.''

For a second, Joy looks like she wants to cry. But then she scowls, shrinks back against the wall, slides to the ground and draws her knees up to her chest. ''Don't talk to me.'' Cecelia presses her lips together and silently watches her daughter through the bars. After a moment, Joy lowers her head and Cecelia catches sight of frustrated, angry tears glimmering in the dim light. ''I hate you,'' Joy mumbles out around her tears.

''That's all right,'' Cecelia smiles gently. ''I love you.''

* * *

**epilogue;**

**Halloween Night:**

''I still think she should have been Robin.''

''Well, you're going to need to get over that.''

''But think about how cute that would've been!''

''Wyatt, dude, think about what you're saying for a minute. You're almost eight years old. Would your friends have thought that was cool? Not to mention, the bigger issue is your mother. We never would've gotten out of the house because she would have insisted on taking fifty thousand pictures.''

''...True.''

''Hey, do _not_ try and pin this on me, Dean Winchester.'' Ruby falls into step with her husband and son, glancing down at her sleeping daughter in her arms. ''_You're_ the one who put our daughter in the_ store bought _lion costume.''

''Know what?'' Dean drawls in response. ''I'm perfectly comfortable with taking responsibility for this because _you_ wanted to dress her as a _flower_.''

She shrugs and he watches as she fixes Ella's costume carefully. It's clear she doesn't dislike the lion costume nearly as much as she says she does. ''I had the costume left over from when Wyatt was a baby. I thought it'd be easier on us.''

''Hold up.'' Wyatt stops in his tracks, pushes his mask up and looks at her in horror. ''You dressed me as a _flower_?Couldn't you have gone with the standard baby pumpkin? Just tonight I've seen five different babies dressed as pumpkins. That's - You dressed me as a_ flower_?''

''See,'' Dean gloats proudly. ''I made our daughter unique.''

''What can I say?'' Ruby shrugs again, eyes twinkling. ''For the first year of your life, we all thought you were a girl.''

''Geez,'' Wyatt grumbles. ''Way to traumatize a kid.''

''You weren't traumatized,'' Ruby protests innocently. ''You seemed to greatly enjoy being a flower.''

''Uh, okay,'' Dean arches an eyebrow and glances from his wife to his son. ''This conversation is bordering on disturbing now.''

''You're just realizing that?'' Wyatt mutters under his breath.

Ruby laughs a twinkly little laugh and the smile on her face draws Dean to her like a moth to a flame. Halloween has never really been his favourite time of the year. In past years, he could pretty much take it or leave it. The last time he took someone trick or treating was when Sam was eight. (He and Ruby were supposed to take Wyatt trick or treating last year, but he had gotten the flu and she was sick and pregnant so Ruby's uncle wound up taking Wyatt out. And do you know what's not fun? Flipping a coin with your wife to see who gets to puke in the toilet and who gets the trashcan.)

Now he's got a family and October 31st suddenly means something awesome to them. Ruby loves Halloween for reasons Dean doesn't understand at all, but it makes her smile and he's willing to give anything a chance if it will make her smile. Wyatt loves Halloween for the candy and the costumes, like any other kid. And despite the fact that she had seemed quite alarmed at the discovery that her costume covered her hands, leaving her unable to chew on her fingers, Ella is bound to love the holiday just as much as her mother and brother do. Long story short, Halloween is apparently a big deal to his family and he's willing to do anything for his family.

Except dress up. That's where he draws the line. Unlike Ruby, who is currently sporting black cat ears and whiskers drawn out of black eyeliner which he only finds incredibly charming.

He trails behind them slightly, admiring how normal they look at the moment. Ruby is saying something to Wyatt, who grins up at her in response. A small, contented smile crosses his lips briefly. Technically, they're still dealing with the fallout from the whole Casper the Unfriendly Ghost incident. Wyatt's been having nightmares and he's been spending the nights in his parent's bed and Ruby keeps waking up in the middle of the night to make sure Wyatt is still beside her and that Ella is safe in her crib. But Joy is gone for good and his wife and kids are safe. He thinks he can handle a little paranoia for awhile. Just as long as they're safe.

As they near the house, he catches sight of a familiar car in the driveway. Apparently, Wyatt does too. ''Sam!'' The littlest Batman rushes forwards to launch himself at Sam, and Ella stirs in her mom's arms at the yelp. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean notices Ruby sending him a look and he smiles to let her know he's okay.

Sam laughs, lifting Wyatt off the ground. ''Hey, Batman,'' Sam greets with a smile. ''You been out saving the world?''

''Yep. And all I got was this candy.''

''Hey, if you don't want it, I'll take it.''

''Hi, Sam.'' Ruby greets him with that beautiful smile of hers and kisses his cheek.

His smile turns into a full blown grin when he sees Ella. ''Hello there, little lion girl. And...'' He frowns at Ruby, tilting his head to the side curiously. ''...Weird...eared...person.''

''I'm a cat,'' she informs him in a deadpan.

''Oh. ...I did not get that.''

''Hey, Sammy.'' The nickname slips through his lips naturally and it's only after he's said it that he realizes what he's just said. The smile on his face doesn't budge as he looks his brother up and down, and he quickly finds it's not as uncomfortable to be around Sam as it was only days ago. ''What's your costume? Wolverine? 'Cause I gotta say, dude, your hair is gettin' out of control.''

Sam rolls his eyes. ''I'm laughing on the inside. And anyway, what's _your _costume? I don't see you dressing up as Robin.''

''Oh! _You_ should have been Robin!'' Wyatt yelps, snapping his fingers in realization.

''Um, I'll have you know I am, in fact, wearing a costume.'' With a smirk, and a wink thrown in his wife's direction, Dean pulls his jacket back to reveal a gift tag on his shirt that reads _To: Women. From: God._

Sam blinks, sighs and looks towards Ruby. She's shaking her head, looking severely disappointed in her husband and embarrassed that she chose to marry such a geek. ''God's gift to women?'' Sam asks dryly.

''You know it.''

Sam's lips twitch and he tries very hard not to smile.

''Sam,'' Ruby pipes up, laying a hand on his arm. ''Would you like to stay for awhile? Wyatt's going to make us sit through The Nightmare Before Christmas again. And your brother's going to eat all of Wyatt's candy. I, for one, would like to have some mature company.''

''Oh, uh...'' Sam sneaks a glance towards Dean briefly before smiling softly. ''Sure.''

''Great.'' Ruby flashes him a brilliant smile before bouncing back towards her husband to peck him on the lips. ''I'm going to take the kids inside,'' she murmurs against his lips. ''You need to talk to your brother.''

Dean chokes back a sigh and watches her lead Batman inside with Little Lion Girl in her arms. When he looks back at Sam, he's leaning against his car while he eyes the trick or treaters running up and down the street. Silently, Dean takes his place next to Sam, folding his arms over his chest.

''How's Wyatt?'' Sam asks after a beat of silence.

Dean shrugs. ''He'll be okay. He's been sleeping in our bed because of nightmares, but...he'll be fine. He's a strong kid.''

Sam looks like he wants to smile. ''That he is. And Ruby?''

''She's...still a little shaken. But she's Ruby. She'll get over it.'' Dean watches his brother out of the corner of his eye. Sam's eyes are on the ground and his hands are in his pockets. After all these years, Dean thinks he can tell when his brother has something to say. He waits for the words to come out and when Sam doesn't say a word, Dean blows out a breath and runs a tired hand over his face. He watches as a little tiger and a princess scramble up the front steps of his house, yelling out an animated ''trick or treat!'' when Ruby opens the door. A brief smile starts on his lips when he sees her grin widely at the children, Tallie running circles around her feet. ''Hey,'' he looks over at Sam. ''Do you remember that Halloween when you were four?'' He chuckles and shakes his head. ''You dressed up as Dad.''

Sam snorts. ''That certainly was a memorable Halloween. I had never seen Dad look at me like that before.''

''Well,'' Dean frowns thoughtfully. ''He was proud of you, dude. The guy had his flaws but he was a good man at heart. You know that, right?''

''Of course I know that.'' Sam purses his lips and shoots him a look that Dean can't quite decipher. ''Is this your roundabout way of telling me I shouldn't be mad at you for comparing me to Dad? That I shouldn't be hurt?''

''Oh, hell no,'' Dean scoffs. ''Course you should be mad at me for that. That was a dick move. And at the time, I meant for it to hurt. I wanted you to hurt like I did, Sam.''

''Like you did?''

''Yes,'' Dean admits quietly. ''Like I did. I mean, you're...you're Sam.'' He pushes off the car and turns to give his brother a slightly offended frown. ''You're Sammy and you chose those...those people over me. I didn't understand why. And that hurt so I...got angry.'' He pauses, pinching his lips together and narrowing his eyes. ''Why did you do that anyway? I don't care if they're technically family or not. Why did you choose them?''

Sam doesn't answer for a very long time and when Dean follows his semi vacant stare to the house, he rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. ''Come on, Sammy. If we're going to do this chick flick moment shit, we're going to do it fucking right.''

''You've got a nice life here, Dean,'' Sam says softly.

Dean blinks. ''...Yeah.''

''You're happy. You've got this amazing wife who waited all those years for you and you've got these two incredible kids. And you've got your house and your job and your truck and your apple pie - ''

''Well, actually, Ruby's not much of a baker.''

''And I'm a hunter.'' Sam draws his lips into a thin line and Dean easily recognizes the look in his eyes. ''I'm still a hunter. You wanted a family, Dean. Ever since you met Ruby, you wanted a family with her. Now you've got that. You've got your perfect happy ending. Where do I fit into that? Really Dean,'' Sam lowers his eyes and shakes his head. ''Where do I fit into the picture?''

Dean stands there gaping at his brother for several seconds before he reacts. All he can see when he looks at Sam is an unsure, hurt kid instead of that unflappable, strong man he pretends to be. Something about Sam's words hit a little too close to home (because all that time ago when Sam had Jess and Stanford and Normal, Dean had been the one on the outside looking in) and something inside of him snaps. Despite the fact that he knows this is no way to solve their problems, he reacts on gut instinct. His eyes flash, he goes forwards and he clips Sam over the back of the head.

''Ow!'' Sam yelps, hand flying to the back of his head. ''God! What the hell, man?''

''You're a moron,'' Dean deadpans.

''...Excuse me?''

''Where do you fit in? Really? _That's_ your excuse? Are you ten years old? Tell me, where do you_ think _you fit in?'' Sam opens his mouth to speak, but Dean cuts him off, too invested in his rant to allow anyone else to speak. ''You are a part of this family, you floppy haired Sasquatch! You should've known that! Do you realize this whole thing could have been avoided? Do you understand that this stupid fight was for nothing?''

''I don't think it was for nothing,'' Sam says evenly. ''I think it was a long time coming. It would have happened eventually, Dean. We've both changed so much these past few years - ''

''Oh, boo friggin' hoo,'' Dean sneers. ''Life goes on, Sam. And things can change and we can change, but you'll still fit right here.'' His touching statement is contradicted by a mocking laugh that really only makes him sound like he's losing his mind. ''You are the world's biggest idiot.''

''No, I'm pretty sure that title still belongs to you. For...many reasons.''

''...I'm sorry, Sam.'' He kind of just blurts it out without thinking. That doesn't make it any less real, of course, he just doesn't mean to say it like that.

Sam's eyes widen in shock at the apology. ''Did you just...apologize to me? Because I don't think you've ever done that. Ever.''

''Look, you want the bottom line? The bottom line is I want to see you.''

''Am I invisible?''

''Don't be a smartass. You're still a hunter and I'm still not. But I want to see you. You're still my brother. You're still family. And...that's the one thing that never changes. Things...'' Dean swallows painfully. ''...They can't ever be like they were. But if we try...maybe we could be better.''

Sam looks vaguely startled by Dean's outburst. To be honest, Dean's a little startled himself. Also, embarrassed. He has just initiated one whopping chick flick moment. That has got to lower his street cred. Becoming a husband and father has so clearly softened him. ''This is Ruby talking, isn't it?'' Sam asks flatly.

''Sam...''

''Okay, okay.'' Sam chuckles and raises his hands in surrender. ''Sorry.'' There's a pause and then, ''I'm _sorry_, Dean. Really, I am.''

Dean nods briskly. ''I don't trust the Campbells,'' he admits quietly. ''But I trust you, little brother. I thought you should know that.''

''Well, it's...good to know.''

Dean nods again and leans back against the car. There's a moment of silence, broken only by the sound of children laughing and yelling ''trick or treat'' all through the neighborhood. And then Dean decides he just can't hold this in anymore. ''Sam?''

''Yeah?''

''I hate your bitch car.''

''...I hate your bitch truck.''

(They're not okay yet. But they'll get there.)

* * *

''There you go, ladybug. That's better, isn't it?''

Ella blinks sleepily up at her mother and curls her tiny fist around Ruby's left hand, small fingers brushing her wedding ring. Ruby smiles softly and lays her sleepy-but-not-quite-asleep daughter in her crib. The baby kicks her feet and a barely audible noise, like a sigh, escapes her lips. ''Next year,'' Ruby whispers. ''We'll have to dress you up as an actual ladybug. How does that sound?'' Ella's eyes drift shut in response and her fist clenches and unclenches like she's searching for something to hold onto. Ruby gently grazes a finger over her daughter's cheek before gliding away from the crib towards the closet, grabbing Ella's discarded lion costume on the way.

She does her best to open the creaky closet door quietly; carefully storing away the lion costume that, despite her comments, she actually thinks is cute. When she closes the door once again, she is suddenly all too aware that she is not the only adult presence in the room and there is currently an angel about two feet away from her studying her silently with pursed lips. She jumps in surprise and stifles a scream, putting a hand over her heart. ''Holy crap.'' When she regains her wits, she fixes him with one of those stern looks you only get from being a mother and grabs the sleeve of his trench coat, dragging him out of the room. ''You should really look into getting a bell for around your neck,'' she informs him in a deadpan, shutting the door to Ella's nursery.

''My apologies,'' he says. ''I didn't mean to scare you.''

''That's why some people announce their presence.''

''Ella is sleeping.''

She presses her lips together and gives him a look. ''Dean's downstairs,'' she tells him, arching an eyebrow after a moment goes by in silence.

''I'm not here to see Dean,'' Castiel says with a shrug. ''I'm here to see you.''

''Oh.'' She nods like she understands and clasps her hands. ''And why is that?''

''Are you upset with me?''

Taken aback by his oh-so-blunt tone of voice (although in hindsight, she really shouldn't be), she raises an eyebrow and can't formulate a response right away.

''Because,'' he goes on seriously. ''I don't want you to be upset with me. When you're upset with me it's...upsetting.''

''You seem to be going in circles.''

''I...consider you a friend, Ruby.''

She smiles lightly, feeling a blush creeping up her neck. Who knew Castiel, the Hopelessly Confused when it comes to Real Life Angelman, could be sweet? Even if he doesn't mean to be. ''Well, thank you for that.'' She takes in a breath and meets his eyes. ''I'm not upset with you...anymore. It was just...a lot for me to take in. It's difficult to face the reality that my son and I would be dead if it wasn't for your divine intervention. And I know it's not your place to care, but Joy and her mother...I feel responsible for that. For them dying, for Joy's bitterness.''

''You shouldn't,'' he says slowly. ''I gave you and your son a second chance. Do not spend it feeling guilty for things out of your control.''

She brings a hand to the back of her neck, offering him a small smile. She doesn't say anything and he stares at her with those piercing blue eyes of his like he knows there is more she has to say. ''You were right, you know,'' she finally sighs out. ''About what I saw when Wyatt was born. A Reaper. Before they even let me hold him, I just...I saw this shadow. And something didn't feel right for a minute there. But I was exhausted and sore and then when they put him in my arms, I was so happy I forgot and eventually I stopped feeling like something was wrong. But now that I know that we were supposed to die, I can't stop thinking about when I was pregnant with Wyatt. Did I do something wrong? Could I have prevented all of this if I had done something different while I was pregnant with him?''

''Ruby, I'm not sure if you were ever told this, but Wyatt was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. And you narrowly escaped hemorrhaging to death. Those are things that you could not have prevented. Things that were _not_ your fault.''

''You saved me,'' she points out. ''You saved me because of Dean.''

''Yes.'' For a brief second there, she actually thinks he's going to smile. The second passes quickly. ''Because of Dean.''

''You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you?'' When he opens his mouth to respond, no words come out. He actually looks a little flustered. She takes pity on him and laughs gently, laying a hand on his arm. ''That's okay. I would too.'' She hesitates for a second and then leans forwards to press a soft kiss to his cheek. ''You saved me and my son,'' she whispers. ''How could I ever be mad at you for that?''

He, again, doesn't say a word, but he does seem to be blinking quite a bit.

''Don't be a stranger,'' she orders firmly.

That's when he responds. With a frown and a head tilt, he holds her gaze and says, ''I don't know what that means.''

''It means come around more often. The kids seem to sort of adore you and I know Dean would like to see you more. He loves you, you know. Like, inappropriately so. To the point where I'm almost a little jealous.''

''Are you inviting me into your home?''

''That's the general idea, yes. Whether you understand it or not, Cas, you're family. And this is what family does.'' With one last smile, she lets her hand linger on his arm before brushing past him to make her way down the hallway.

(He turns to watch her walk away, still trying to understand what has just happened.)

* * *

Normalcy is overrated. Maybe that's the lesson here. Her family is never going to be normal. Dean will always have the blood of a hunter, Sam will too and Cas is a freaking Angel of the Lord. These are things that don't change. Things she has to learn to live with. Danger will come and go in their lives. That's just a fact. If she were anyone else, she would take her kids and run scared. But she's not anyone else and Ruby Daniels has never been one to run scared of the unknown.

Whatever life throws at her next, she's not going to let it destroy her family. She has always hated to lose, after all.

So no, she probably will never have normal. But maybe that's okay because she's got Dean and this family and those things are better than normal ever could be.

Halfway through The Nightmare Before Christmas (Wyatt's favourite movie that he makes them watch at both Halloween and Christmas) she goes to check on Ella and when she comes back down the stairs with the baby monitor in hand, she stops in her tracks and has to pinch her lips together to keep from sighing.

Dean and Sam are both holding a giggling Wyatt upside down by his feet while Castiel carefully examines a candy bar with an odd amount of interest. They all freeze and look at her when she clears her throat.

Wyatt waves and greets her through giggles. ''Hi, Mom.''

''Oh,'' Dean smiles sheepishly. ''Hi, honey. This...isn't what it looks like.''

She doesn't even_ know _what it looks like. She decides she doesn't want to know. ''Don't break any bones,'' she warns. ''I'm going to bed.''

Yep.

Those are her boys.

* * *

When she wakes up at one thirty, she searches Dean's side of the bed and finds it empty. A sigh slips through her lips and she blinks sleep from her eyes, pushing herself into a sitting position. Yawning, she tugs on her robe and snatches the baby monitor, stumbling downstairs in the dark. She is fully prepared to play the part of Mean Mom and ruin all the fun because it is long past time for bed. However, scolding appears to be unnecessary because when she gets to the living room, she sees Wyatt sprawled out in Sam's lap, fast asleep while Sam is passed out with his head tilted backwards. Castiel, who has apparently discovered the joys of chocolate, is surrounded by candy wrappers and she's not sure if he's sleeping or not (because she's not all that sure if angels sleep) but his eyes are closed, he's using his coat as a blanket and he appears to be pretty dead to the world.

Tallie opens her eyes and peers up at Ruby from her spot on the other side of Sam.

Dean, however, is nowhere to be seen.

Eventually, she finds him in the garage, sitting in the Impala looking pensive. He doesn't seem at all surprised when she slides into the passenger seat, offering her a tiny smile instead. ''Couldn't sleep?''

''What are you doing out here?'' She asks quietly, placing the baby monitor on the dashboard.

His hand comes to rest on her knee and he sighs, leaning back against the seat. ''My truck is practical, right?''

''Dean, I never asked you to give up your car.''

''I know. It's just...after Ella was born, I thought I needed something more practical.''

''You know, we do have my car.''

''All the sexual favors in the world will never get me to drive that thing. It's a minivan.''

''Actually, it's a Jeep.''

''Whatever, it's close.''

''It's not.''

''She doesn't deserve to be cooped up in here.''

''I still think it's weird that the car's a she. Why can't it be a he?''

''Because that would be weird.''

''Oh. Right. That would be weird.''

''I don't want to be sitting in a dude, okay? ...That didn't come out right.''

''Well, you may be perfectly fine with sitting in a chick, but I'm not.''

''You're cute when you're jealous.''

''Eat me.''

''Well,'' he flashes her a wolfish grin and the hand on her knee starts sliding up her bare leg. ''I thought you'd never ask.''

''Dean,'' she grabs the back of his neck and pulls his forehead to hers. ''This isn't just about the Impala, is it?''

He closes his eyes and sighs. ''Ruby...''

She kisses him hard on the lips and his hand automatically tangles in her hair and draws her body closer to his. She is the first to pull away after a moment, collapsing back against the seat, leaving him looking a little dazed. She presses two fingers to her lips and casts a sidelong glance in his direction. Normal isn't all it's cracked up to be anyway. ''You know,'' she drawls casually. ''If Sam ever needed help on a case every now and then, I wouldn't mind if you gave him a hand.''

She watches as his jaw clenches and his hands curl tight around the steering wheel of the immobile car. ''I can't ask you to do that.''

''You didn't ask me to do that, Dean. I'm offering. If you need it, have it. Wyatt and Ella and I...we're not going anywhere. You should know that by now. Hey, look at me, Winchester.'' She grabs his hand tightly, holding it against her chest. ''I don't need normal, Dean. I know you think I do and I thought I did, but I don't. I just need you.''

''Ruby - ''

''I'm not saying I want it to be like it was before because I don't. But...there are plenty of husbands and fathers out there who go on business trips once a month. That doesn't mean they're not good husbands and fathers. And there are lots of brothers out there who make it a habit to get out of town together and bond every once and awhile. Dean,'' she touches his face lightly and smiles. ''This is in your blood. This is who you _are_. I'm not going to keep you from that.''

He stays quiet for a minute, looking forwards like he can see the open road he left behind. Then he leans towards her and presses a kiss to her forehead. ''You're amazing. Have I told you that lately?''

''Mmm, not since yesterday.''

''Well, I'm sorry I've been so neglectful.''

''That's all right. You can make it up to me.'

''Right. Yeah,'' he smirks. ''I can eat you.''

''Yeah, whatever you say, Mr. God's Gift to Women,'' she laughs and swats him on the shoulder when he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. ''But I'm serious,'' she says, folding into his side. ''Whatever makes you happy, Dean. It's okay by me.''

He purses his lips in thought and she peers up at him through her eyelashes. ''Every once and awhile,'' he all but whispers.

She nods. ''Every once and awhile.''

''Well...okay then.'' He wraps an arm round her and pulls her against his chest, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She smiles lazily and closes her eyes, relaxing into his embrace. After a moment goes by in comfortable silence, he speaks up. ''Hey, Ruby?''

''Hmm?''

''Have we ever christened the backseat?''

**end**

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**AN: And there you have it. Now I can devote all my time to Breakable Hummingbirds and Queen of Hearts. Hope you enjoyed the story! The End.**


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